<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Sky is Falling - And other common misconceptions by TheEvilQueenReadsToo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881042">The Sky is Falling - And other common misconceptions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvilQueenReadsToo/pseuds/TheEvilQueenReadsToo'>TheEvilQueenReadsToo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Agoraphobia, Alternative Univers, Anxiety, F/F, Mental Illness, OUAT - Freeform, Once Upon A Time, SwanQueen Fanfiction Facebook Group (Once Upon a Time), Swen - Freeform, chatting, online, swanqueen - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:14:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,945</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvilQueenReadsToo/pseuds/TheEvilQueenReadsToo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma has severe social anxiety/agoraphobia, and has a hard time getting out of the house. Her therapist leads her to an online group for people with anxiety, and that's where she meets a user called TopazPorcelain. She soon realize that the group isn't for her, but TP intrigues her, and they start chatting privately. Maybe they will actually meet some day, if they can overcome their anxiety?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Last night I dreamt I was at my own funeral, again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do hope you like this as much as you liked "The Coldest Touch"! If you haven't read TCT yet it's ok, you don't have to &lt;3<br/>And yes my resumé sucks, sorry!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emma was floating out of a room. And with that going on she had a feeling that she wanted to be in that exact room. But she couldn't stop herself from floating away, before she glided through a very big door, and was now on the other side of it.</p><p>It was a big, heavy and dark door, which door frame was a stone arc, maybe made of granite. That made Emma frown in confusion, as she was on the other side of it. She was standing just outside a church, apparently. A really old church it seemed and it also gave her a scottish vibe. Even if she couldn’t exactly tell why.</p><p>Standing in front of the door she tried to grab the door knob, but she only grabbed air. She tried to push the door then, but both hands went through the door, like it was air! And then again: She should have expected that as she had flown through it just minutes before. But she found herself with big, surprised eyes, and pulled her hand away from the door. And then she poked it through the door again.</p><p>Hmmm… she thought, while looking from the hand to the door and then back at her hand again. Holding her hands in front of herself she shut her eyes, running towards the door. She felt a blow of the wind towards her face, and some bagpipes began playing. That made her open her eyes searching the room, but no bagpipes were found. And in front of her was yet another door.</p><p>To be specific there was more than a door. In front of her were three different doors. Walking towards the one on her left, her intention to walk through it just like the front door. But it didn’t work. Not at all. A frown graced her face, as she turned towards the right door, trying to walk through that one as well. She held her hand out in front of herself as she tried to pul it through the door. But that didn’t work either. Instead she hit the door with her hand. Then she tried to grab the door knob, but her hand just went right through it. Of course.</p><p>Oh, well. She thought with confusion, scratching her head. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t get through any of the doors. Then she realized that there was actually one more door. One door left.</p><p>Taking a chance she just ran towards the door and… she went right through it. At least one of the doors worked for her. It would have been kinda tragic, if she had been trapped in the dark room. That wouldn’t make sense at all. The bagpipe music got louder as she ended up in the main room of the church, but still she couldn’t see any of the instruments anywhere. But at least now she had realized from where she had gotten the scottish vibe - the bagpipes.</p><p>The room was kind of average, mediocre even. It had many bench rows where people could sit. And someone was actually sitting in the seats! A big casket was located near the altar. But she didn’t give that much attention. No, she looked around at the people in the room. She walked up the aisle, looking at those people one after one, and soon she realized that she actually knew these people.</p><p>To the left Ruby was sat, her best friend, and August, her brother from another mother. He had his arm around Ruby as she tried to dry her eyes with a handkerchief, or was it just a kleenex? That fact puzzled her quite a bit, mostly because Ruby wasn’t normally the first one to cry. August’s face was kinda blank just as his eyes, but there were no tears yet to cry.</p><p>“Why are you crying?” She asked them, but got no answer.</p><p>“Hello?” She tried again, trying to put her hand on her friend’s shoulder, but it just went through her just like with the doors.</p><p>“HEY!” She then yelled loudly, but got no reaction whatsoever.</p><p>That made her wave her hand in front of Ruby’s face. Still no reaction.</p><p>“I just can’t believe it...” Her best friend said, looking at August who tried to smile, probably to cheer her up.</p><p>“I can’t believe it either,” he answered with a small nod, sniffling slightly, but still no tears had fallen.</p><p>Just after that their conversation lowered to mumbling sounds that Emma couldn’t understand at all. Which is why she walked forward through the room again. She then saw her therapist Archie sitting at one of the benches, even if he didn’t look like he knew where he was or why. But he looked sad, and it was kinda familiar in some way? He always had that sad expression when they talked about something that touched Emma deeply.</p><p>However he didn’t say anything. Not to begin with at least. It was only when Emma was brushing past him that he pulled out his phone, talking into it: “Yes, I’m on my way. I just need to be sure that everyone is ok… or as ok as someone can be after <em> this </em> had happened. Terrible tragedy.”</p><p>“After what had happened?” Emma asked without thinking, waving at the therapist, when he didn’t answer her.</p><p>“Hey?” She yelled just like before, but just as with Ruby and August she didn’t get an answer. Like he couldn’t hear her. This was beyond weird!</p><p>But she kept walking towards the casket, and didn’t try to talk to anyone from there on. There was really no reason to try as of now. If Ruby and August didn’t respond no one else would. She was then at the front rows. A man and a woman were sitting there with their backs toward Emma. None of them said anything, but the woman kept pulling a handkerchief towards her face, trying to dry of tears probably.</p><p>Or that was what it looked like from behind anyways.</p><p>But when Emma got to see the front of them she saw that none of them had faces. It was like someone had used a big eraser on their faces, and cleared away eyes, nose and mouth from the faces. It was just skin without any features and it looked so very scary. The most alarming part was that the woman was still crying, but without eyes. The tears just came out of the skin from where the eyes should have been.</p><p>Weird, she thought, scratching the back of her head again. She had begun wondering what could be in the casket, and she was kinda frightened about what she would find. But even if she was scared she found herself walking up the steps towards it. The closer she got the paler she got. Or her hands did. That much she could see.</p><p>When she got to the casket it was open and… she looked down and her own pale, dead face. She gasped loudly, clasping her hand in front of her mouth. But it was in clear schock. No grief at all. She just looked at the body who had her face, but nothing else looked like her. She didn’t recognize anything on the body as herself, other than the face that is. Her wrist tattoo was gone. It just seemed like someone had put her face on the body. Everything about it felt surreal.</p><p>And.</p><p>Then she woke up.</p><p>Gasping and heaving she tried to suck oxygen into her lunges as she suddenly sat up in her bed. Her right hand was locked around her throat and a feeling like she was trying to strangle herself was creeping in on her. She tried to get a hold on herself that way and hint: It didn’t work. That made her grab for anything - everything - to ground herself. She ended up with a dead grib on the sheets still trying to get a hold of something more steady. Then she got a hold of the bed frame. First with one hand, then with the other.</p><p>Laying on her stomach, with her fingers locked around the bed frame, she tried to catch her breath. She must have sounded like a stranded whale. In, out. In, out, she repeated that in her thoughts, trying to get a hold on reality again. How could she begin?</p><p><em> Where are you </em>? A quiet voice said in her head. Archie’s voice. She lastly knew where to begin. Finally!</p><p>Her eyes jumped around the room, and found safety in the recognizability of it all.</p><p>“I am in my bedroom,” she wheezed desperately, because she knew this helped. Even if she couldn’t get over the feeling that she was being strangled.</p><p>“I am in my apartment.” Her voices had stopped wheezing, but it was barely a whisper leaving her lips as she tried to breath.</p><p>“I am home,” she spoke in a whisper, and tried to not be scared about how exhausted, hollow and scary her voice sounded at the moment.</p><p>Her gaze jumped from furniture to the next thing, and then she looked at her hands. The knuckles were all white as she spasmodically held onto the bed frame. In, out. In, out. She thought, trying to breathe like a normal person. She didn’t quite succeed with that, but at least she tried, right? That was the most important part. That was what her therapist always told her.</p><p>She kept talking herself down: “I am safe.”</p><p>She inhaled shakily, but tried to breathe deeply again.</p><p>“I am alone. Nobody can hurt me here.” Her voice was still shaky when she said it, but she also knew she would soon feel better. If she kept on this track she would feel better in an hour or so. Soon she would be able to breathe again. Everything was going to be ok again, which is why she said exactly that.</p><p>“It’s gonna be ok.”</p><p>Deep breath.</p><p>“You are not dying,” she said as she felt a violent shiver run through her body.</p><p>She grabbed a hold on her throat again, squeezing experimentally. Ok, she thought speculatively. This was how it felt to not be able to breath. She then stopped squeezing, inhaling deeply. And finally she could feel air going into her lunges. She then squeezed again, let go and tried to breathe. The air was where it should be. She could breath. She could actually breath.</p><p>Greedily she inhaled and inhaled again, and then exhaled just a little. She felt like she was going to explode, but kinda in a good way? If that actually existed.</p><p>Abruptly she sat up in the bed, and for the second time this night she was clenching her hands tightly, while breathing in and out. Inhale after inhale made her more and more calm. Slowly she felt so well that she could stop squeezing her throat, which is why she placed her hand on her chest. And just there she could feel it: the calm and easy breathing.</p><p>Slowly she stopped squeezing her hand, stretching her fingers as she speculatively wiggled them. Analyze the situation, the voice of the therapist said in her head. What happened? The voice said now.</p><p>“You had a dream,” she told herself, her voice no longer a whisper, but it was still shaking slightly.</p><p>“You thought you were going to die, but you didn’t die,” she shakily said.</p><p>She looked around the room again. Nothing was weird or abnormal in any way. Everything was as it always was. No shadows behind the curtains. No open windows. Nope. Nothing at all.</p><p>“You are still alone. You are not dying. You can breathe,” she mumbled to herself, grabbing for the phone, which was placed on the wooden box she used as her bedside table. </p><p>She pressed the home-button, trying to figure out what the numbers on the front page meant. And then she remembered what the clock was and how it worked. It was 4 AM, in the middle of the night. Or early morning some would say.</p><p>“Okay. Good,” she said quietly, like she was trying to not wake-up somebody, and put the phone back on the table. “You need to sleep Emma. You can’t just sit here awake all night. It’s not good for you.”</p><p>Thereby she laid down again, and tried to breathe as evenly as possible. She counted her breathing for a few minutes, but realized that it didn’t work. It didn’t help her stay calm, so she just stopped doing that. Just breathing as normally as she could, trying to find the rhythm again.</p><p>She slapped her stomach making drumming-sounds like that, trying to figure out how to fall asleep after a dream like that. After <em> that </em> dream in particular. After all she had dreamt about her own funeral, and even if her mood wasn’t the highest most of the time she hadn’t imagined herself dying. Well, one would die at some point, but not this early in her life, right? </p><p>It was an overall bizarre dream. She thought that controlling her dreams would be really nice in some way. And why weren’t she able to get through the other doors? What was behind them?</p><p>But the more she thought about this the more she realized that it wasn’t the first time she had this dream. She had had this exact dream before, and that just made it plain weird. And this particular dream just made her more and more confused for every time she had had it. It was <em> always </em> the same dream.</p><p>Eventually she picked up her phone and poked the Netflix icon. Soon after she found a moie she could watch until she fell asleep and started it. But she wasn’t able to sleep before hours later.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Group</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for me being sooo late with this! But I have sprained a finger, and today is the first day where I'm actually able to write for a longer period of time. It's going very slowly forward, but forward! Sorry for the delay! I hope you will read anyways &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emma had a really restless night even if she tried to sleep after that weird dream about her own funeral. She had tossed and turned all night waking up every half hour, but at least she didn’t dream that dream again. Or fell into the same dream once again. It was nice to see your own dead face, it was just plain unpleasant and a little weird. But not having to do that helped her mood a little. That she didn't have to relive that once again. After all it was - no matter what she thought now - a scary thing to experience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s why she this morning felt all dead inside. Mostly in her brain. She was rubbing her eyes trying to remove the sleep from her eyes with a clumsy thumb. But yeah, she of course ended up pocking herself in the eye cursing at herself for being all thumbs no grace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she was done with unintentionally harming herself she swung her legs out of the bed pushing herself onto her feets. With a deep sigh she ran her fingers through the blonde curls, while trying to figure out how to begin her day. It was monday after all which was her day off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that she had much to do at work anyways. She had two part time jobs. One where she - once a week - challenged her anxiety and walked to the local library for an hour putting the books back on the shelves. That was more or less what she was able to do outside her apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other job was different by a lot. She taught english twice a week. She only had two classes, but that was more than enough most of the time. But she was quite content with what she was doing at the moment. It was ok. She was just kinda sad about one thing: she wasn’t really able to walk amongst other people most of the time. But she guessed that was just the life of someone with agoraphobia and anxiety - and depression even if that didn’t really count.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet another sigh escaped her lips as she scratched her hip walking out of the bedroom. Her feet lead her directly to the kitchen where she pulled out some Kellogg's Coco Pops from the cupboard. The fridge opened as she pulled out the milk. Upon opening it and smelling it she pulled a face. She was pretty sure that it had gone bad. When it was put bottom up in the sink she turned her attention back to the bowl with the Coco Pops, shrugged and took it with her to the living room. Milk wasn’t really that important anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the third sigh of the morning - before 10 that was! - she fell into the soft cushions of the couch with the bowl and spoon in one hand while scrolling through Facebook with the other. Damn it, she thought annoyed, when nothing from her Facebook feed caught her interest. After all she didn’t have enough friends to keep her entertained by Facebook all morning. She tossed the phone on the coffee table, shoveling the dry Coco Pops into her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chewed like she had somewhere else to be, and foregone the spoon halfway through the bowl. Nobody was there to watch or judge her here after all, so why not just make it easy for oneself? Crunch, crunch, crunch sounded through the living room as she chewed and found that she kinda missed the milk. That made her miss the best part of this cereal product: Drinking the chocolate milk afterwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With no real interest she placed the bowl on the coffee table - it was empty after all - while scowling at it for a few minutes before she stood up, leaving the couch. But she was stopped by a low humming from the coffee table. The phone moved across the table as it tried to catch Emma’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes! I am here, I’ll get to it!” She mumbled to herself - who else? - and lifted the phone from the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She then took it to her ear before realizing that it was just a text, not a call that she had received. For a short moment she closed her eyes and shook her head. Then she opened them again, clicking on the text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>August: Hey Em! I have something for you! :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma rolled her eyes at that. She didn’t understand why August always called her ‘Em’. Emma was short enough right? Ít didn’t make any sense to her at least, but he was really fond of doing it, finding it hilarious. He wouldn’t keep doing it, if he didn’t find it funny in some way. Even if God had to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone vibrated in her hand, and that made her act.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A: Helloooo? Are you awake Em?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma: Yeah, yeah alright! I’m here! What do you want? :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A: I have something for you, I told you that much! :stuck_out_tongue:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Get on with it Augie. I just woke up :rolling_eyes: :sleepy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A: Yes, yes, if you say so. I am on my way to your place ,and I wanted to buy something for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: You don’t have to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grimaced at his everlasting kindness, and tapped the letters to send another text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Really. You don’t have to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A: Too late! I’m already at the store. What do you need? :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Augie, you don’t have to bring me anything. I can handle it :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A: Oh shut up I’m at the counter in a minute. Let me guess… you need bread? Egg?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma had to bite her tongue to not laugh at him, and punched the letters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Close but no: Milk :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A: Milk is on it’s way. See you doll! :kiss:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Don’t call me that :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was looking at her phone for a while before she realized that August wasn’t answering anymore. Right now at least. Actually now that she thought about it she would most likely not get an answer from him before he got to her apartment. And a text? Most likely not before dinnertime, if she was lucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet another sigh - now the fourth of them before 10 AM - fell from her lips in a heavy outtake of breath, as she stood from the couch again. She just let the bowl be. Doing something about it right now was out of her reach at the moment. And as there was no milk in it, it would go bad, even if it was hot and sunny today - a real spring morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She went to her room trying to get some clothes on her body before August would be here. If she knew him well he would be here in half an hour, and to open the door in boyshorts, t-shirt and no bra wasn’t really what she wanted to do. He expected very little from her, but this he actually expected. But if he was on the bike we would be here in 20 minutes tops, which meant she had to pull herself together and speed up to get it done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She everted out of the t-shirt and threw a bra on. Then she pulled a tank top out of the closet, and pulled on some loose fitting sweats. But then she decided against that wiggling out of those again and then into some actual jeans. Skinny-jeans to be precise. It looked a lot better and a lot less like the lazy choice. And she knew that August would comment on it, if he showed up to her wearing sweats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she was done throwing on clothes she sat on the bed and tried to figure out what to do until August showed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peeling dry skin off of her lower lip she ended up in deep thought like she did every time she had a large amount of unmanageable time in front of her. Or time she didn’t know how to spend in an efficient way. Usually it was waiting time of any kind. That made her poke her thigh as she was angry at herself for not doing her own grocery shopping. She wanted to do it. She really wanted to do it herself! But she couldn’t. The anxiety was in the way of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that sucked ass!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit!” she swore annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took her fist to the pillow again and again as she tried to get out of her head, and get back into a logical state of mind. She was dangerously close to what she called ‘the dark place’ and it wasn’t a good time for that right now. Soon August would be here. No time for that shit! She hit the pillow with her fist yet again, but as it wasn’t enough she took her fist to the wall instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit that </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurt!” She yelled louder than before as she was jumping up and down waving her hand trying to make the pain and the slight humming in her knuckles go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blowing at her knuckles she shook them once again. That made her aware of the fact that they had taken a red-ish colour. Luckily it hadn’t broken the skin. Probably you wouldn’t be able to see that she had just punched a wall just a few minutes from now. It was going to be alright. Soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then someone pressed the doorbell. Had it already been half an hour? She scratched her neck while thinking. Then she forced herself to move, and walked towards the front door. This way! She thought to herself, and then opened the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Em,” August said with a big smile at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“August, come in please,” she just answered, nodding towards the inside then walking inside the living room without looking back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would follow her, if he wanted to. She didn’t even think about the fact that he possibly had a lot of bags with him and that she should have helped him. No, she was just too tired in the head to think of that, which is why she went inside the living room sitting herself on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>August didn’t comment on it, because he knew her very well and knew how that brain of hers worked. He just marched inside, after pushing the door open with the tip of his foot, through the living room and inside the kitchen. Emma could hear him walk around in there, and she just thought he was putting stuff in the cupboards and fridge. What else would he do in there?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another deep sigh - the fifth or the sixth now? - and she got up from the couch walking towards the counter between the living room and kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need a hand with that?” She asked, gesturing towards the half empty plastic bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I can manage. I know where everything goes after all,” he answered with a boyish grin, shaking his head at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell am I gonna do with all of that?” She pointed at the plastic bag that he had just lifted unto the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s food, Em. You know the stuff you need to get by. You have to eat, you know.” He winked at her, sticking out his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just had to buy milk, August, dammit,” she groaned bothered, and maybe a little melodramatic, as she facepalmed - letting hand meet face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you got more than that. You could just say ‘thank you August’ you know? And let it be that?” He teased, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, August,” she answered almost robotically as she theatrically rolled her eyes at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clearly showed him that she didn’t like his choices, but August just laughed as always, shaking his head at her before going back to putting the groceries into cupboards and fridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he was already putting stuff in their place - and didn’t want her help, she had asked him - she pulled out her phone playing candy crush. You had to do something right? And watching August doing his thing wasn’t on top of her list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But quickly she grew tired of the game - as she always did, why should today be different? - and threw the phone on the couch as she went to turn on the playstation instead. It was an old playstation 2, and by some miracle it still worked. The only game that was near where she had sat down - the only one in the living room actually - was Super Mario Bros, the one inside the playstation machine which is why she just started up that one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The theme music began, and she pulled out the console to start playing when the couch began vibrating. She looked towards it and figured out that the low humming came from her phone. At first she thought someone was calling her, but the vibrations were short, so it had to be a text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be honest most of the people she knew, knew better than to call her. Mostly because Emma didn’t like to talk to people on the phone, and rarely answered any calls. Normally she just let it go to voicemail, and then texted the one calling. It was easier than taking the call and having to explain that she didn’t like to talk - that she would rather just text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting the phone she sat down with the controller in her lap, and then punched in the code on her phone. Then she pressed the text icon, and chose the top one, the newest. It was from her contact person - a volunteer person who helped her around town when she needed it. It was a little weird, as she almost never texted Emma and especially not on her day off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Contact Person: Hey Emma. I hope you have a good day off, and that I didn’t wake you up. I have found something that I thought you might be interested in. It’s an online group for people like you that can maybe help you. The group begins tomorrow. If you are interested I can email you the details.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: No, you didn’t wake me up. August did that for you. A online group? What kind of group? Is it with an agenda or just free chat?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>CP: Again? He is a real troublemaker that August. It’s a chat for people with different anxiety challenges, and there will be an agenda. At the meeting there will be a kind of educator who will guide the chat, so don’t worry. It’s like the anxiety groups I have mentioned earlier - this is just online. That’s why I thought this might be something for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Ok. I’ll give it a try, ok? Tomorrow you say? When?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>CP: It’s in the evening, which means it won’t collide with your teaching in the morning. But if you want I can send you an email with a link to the chat and the other details. Do you want that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Super. Let’s do it then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>CP: Have a good day, Emma. See you on friday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>E: Yeah, see you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As always Emma got the last word, and she threw the phone on the coffee table. She didn’t feel like checking the email right away, but noticed that she had gotten it. She knew that when the phone vibrated again. It was a longer kind of humming she used for emails, which let her know that it wasn’t text - it wasn’t important to look at right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>August had come into the living room, looking at her with a raised brow. She knew that he wanted to ask about the text, but she also knew that he wouldn’t ask, if she didn’t open up for the conversation herself. She just shook her head, nodding at the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we gonna play or what?” She asked, raising an eyebrow in question. Daring him to lose or win.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bet!” His eyebrow jumped back into place opposite the other as he smiled as a cheshire cat at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be honest Emma just wanted to get her head in the game and out of the online group-chat-thing, so she could have fun with her foster brother. Those thoughts about the group was for later, when she was alone and had time to deal with them. Preferably before she went to sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Online Chatting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yup, my finger is still sprained and in gauze, but I had time for writing today, so I decided to get this chapter ready for you &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day Emma found herself sitting in front of her laptop - an old Asus - at the dinner table, trying to read this mail she had gotten from her contact person. And even if she wasn’t really interested in the set-up itself she knew people expected her to participate. Words like ‘anxiety’, ‘community’ and ‘education’ hit her like a truck, which made her want to dodge this group thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she just clenched her teeth, closed one eye, clicked at the link and then closed the other eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The machine made a low, melodic sound, and that made her open her eyes again. She had been guided directly to her Discord app. That made her raise an eyebrow. Discord? She thought. The fact that they used Discord was something new. Maybe even a little refreshing? She hadn’t experienced that being used in this kind of context before that is. But she knew the platform quite well. She was a part of multiple groups as of now. Mario gamers and online RPG amongst others. Actually a group for lovers of the Sims games too!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at a new icon that she hadn’t seen before. It was just a grey standard icon with a capital ‘A’ on the grey background. Nothing special really, and that just gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. It felt like they didn’t really make anything of it. Or like they didn’t know what they were doing - at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that made her - with a heavy sigh - press the icon. She was dragged into the chat, but no one had written anything yet. On the right side of the app was a list of the people who were online. At the top was the name ‘Teacher Reul’, and below that first name was a few names that didn’t tell her anything really - other than they were probably like her. It was names like: Tryravine, Basicpasta and firefoxfruit47.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting there just watching the other people in the chat she tried to figure them out just from their usernames. To try to figure out what kinds of people they were. It wasn’t usernames she knew from somewhere else, which made her feel kinda safe. It was nice to know that everyone was new here, even Emma herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just waiting she looked at the small digital clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. 18:58 it said, which meant she had more time, but not enough to get herself a cup of coffee clearly. They should begin at 19:00 and more people could show up. Nobody was writing anything in the chat though. Everyone could very well be paralyzed by fear, just as Emma was right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>PLING! The speaker screamed at her as a new member of the group showed up. One who called themself TopazPorcelain. She exhaled through her nose to not laugh out loud. It seemed like a fancy-pancy kind of name made by someone with big thoughts about themself. Or like someone who tried to hide themselves behind ‘perfection’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma herself had Worriedbear3 as her username, because that was what she was. Or she was of course not a bear, but she was cuddly like a teddy bear and so very worried. Especially about this group chat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An eyebrow raised to her forehead as three dots showed up with the words: ‘Teacher Reul is writing…’. And what else to do than wait? Waiting she did, and suddenly the first message showed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Hey folks! I’m pleased you could be here. Today we begin in an easy manner, which is why we are just ‘speaking’ over messages. But if you are ok with my proposition, I would like - at least for myself - to use the voice chat next time. That will make my job easier. But maybe we can start with telling who we are. Just first name, age and maybe gender if you want to share that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then another message from the teacher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: And you can of course present yourself as your username, if it’s too much to use your first name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For several minutes, that might have been just a second, nobody wrote anything. The dots showed up again. It was the teacher writing again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: I can begin, if that’s better?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I would like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: My name is the same as my username, which is Reul, and I am 47 years old. As you have probably already figured out, from my name, I am a woman. I am your teacher today and onwards, but if I get sick or is needed elsewhere my friend Neal will take over. But no worries, he is just as nice as I am.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few seconds went by, before someone began to introduce themselves. But it was Basicpasta who began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: My name is</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: What???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost a minute went by, before Basicpasta wrote again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: You know what, forget it. I’m just Pasta here, just Pasta. I’m 42 and I don’t really know how to use this chat or whatever it is. I’m a single mother and I am of course a woman too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Welcome Pasta.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: Next???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Seriously dude relax, pft :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You can just introduce yourself? Nobody is holding you back?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Well, it’s my turn I guess, if Fruit doesn’t wanna begin. I’m Tryra and I’m 26 years old. I’m obviously a woman, and I have, like you guys I guess, anxiety. Social anxiety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Welcome to you Tryra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I just wanna add that I’m claustrophobic and have general anxiety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Sure, why not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I am Bear - or that’s what people call me at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: wait… ppl call you bear like… irl??? :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Just let Bear talk, seriously :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: yeah whatever</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yes, I’m Bear and people don’t call me that IRL ofc.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: What does IRL mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: irl = in real life</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Oh. Sorry, I’m old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: As I was saying I’m in the end of my 20ths, and am a woman too :rolling_eyes: I don’t have any kids and ehm… I don’t know what else to add.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Maybe what kind of anxiety do you have :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3 Oh yeah ofc. I have agoraphobia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: what the hell does that mean???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma didn’t know what to answer. What to make of this. She was sitting for a while just thinking with a worried expression. Then the chat told her that the teacher was writing, and that made her able to breath again. Because then she didn’t have to answer fruit, hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Welcome Bear. And to answer your question, Fire, agoraphobia is anxiety of going out of your home alone, as far as I know. Is that correct, Bear?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yeah :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I didn’t know that. Sorry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: That must be hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: It’s fine. Really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: anyway it’s me now right??? you or whatever. im firefoxfruit but you can just call me fire or fox or whatever. i dont really care. whatever. im 18 and apparently the only guy in here. unless someone is lying that is. its possible :tongue_smiley:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: What kind of anxiety do you have?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: just anxiety ok???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Seriously take it easy with those question marks, jeez :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Welcome Fire. I think we are missing TopazPorcelain right now, are you here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes the chat indicated that TopazPorcelain was writing. Emma was just looking at TopazPorcelain’s name that was jumping around under the text field. And that was when she realized that she - or he for that matter - hadn’t participated in the chat or talk in any way yet. Which was kinda weird. Or maybe she was right. Maybe TopazPorcelain was a real life snob?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Good afternoon. I’m TP. I’m 36 years old, and I am a woman. I share anxiety with Bear, agoraphobia. And that is all, I think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Welcome TP. Welcome everyone! Ok let’s get started on today’s educational topic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: Whaaat???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Today’s topic is triggers! I’m sure everyone in here knows about this. And has experienced it themselves. I want you to, today, think about what triggers you, and share it if you want. You don’t have to of course, but it would be great if you did. It’s totally ok to just watch today, if that’s what you need. You don’t have to share details, if you don’t want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chatroom was quiet for a while, before Emma decided that she wanted to begin. Nobody else wanted to do that apparently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Many people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it was like her words kickstarted the other member of the chat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Yup, many people indeed :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Ok, let’s begin with people then. What about many people triggers you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Everything. Seriously everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Can you be more specific, please?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine. Just being with many people and talking to them I guess :anguised:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yep. Just being amongst other people triggers me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: And Tryra had social anxiety right? Do you also have social anxiety Bear?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Yes :(</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: No. Agoraphobia :S</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: My bad, I don’t know why I mixed you up with Tryravine. My bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: yo isnt there anyone in here who is scared of stuff that makes sense??? :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: If you keep walking down that path I am outta here :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Seriously Fox, try to show a little respect. People have anxiety about lots of different stuff, and that’s ok.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: is it my fault that you guys are scared of such weird stuff???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: i mean im not scared of stuff like that???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Hey wait a minute. Everybody calm down, there is no reason to argue. Can we please stick to the topic at hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: What are you doing here, if you don’t have anxiety about anything Fox? :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: What are you scared of, Fox?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: wow hey!!! i do have anxiety its totally legit!!!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: But what are you scared of, Fox? If you think our triggers and anxiety are weird and silly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Everyone is welcome here, Tryra. Speak nicely to each other and let’s try again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Let’s get back to people. What about them makes you anxious?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Bear and Tryra have already said something, so maybe we could hear something from TP, Pasta and Fox now? If you are not anxious about people, please share what makes you anxious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I’m just really anxious for my kids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: How so?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Just… if they would get hurt, or kidnapped or something like that. I know it’s totally  irrational, but I just can’t stop worrying. I must be one of them with catastrophic thinking and death- and illness anxiety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Hmmm… interesting. I can’t imagine how that must feel. How do you divert your thoughts and distract yourself, so you can enjoy your kids?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: That sounds rather unpleasant, Pasta. I really know all about having catastrophic thoughts :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I don’t know. I take my meds and all, but I can’t get the thoughts out of my head. They just run around in there making my head spin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I’m so sorry, Pasta. I have some advice, if it’s ok that I throw it into the conversation? If it’s not too weird?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: That’s up to Pasta. If she would like the advice please do so. We are here to help each other and to get more knowledge about anxiety and how to handle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Sure. Shoot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Good advice against having catastrophic thinking? Throw them at us! :smiley: :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: is this a pity party or what???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Go somewhere else with your negativity Fox. You are seriously on the last straw in my book right now. Go somewhere else. I don’t care :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Anyways, I have this advice I got from another person with anxiety once. That you should give yourself time to worry. Like if you say: Ok I’m gonna let my thoughts run wild for 10 minutes, and after that I’ll push the thoughts to the back of my mind, and tell myself I shouldn’t think about it now. But maybe think about it after an hour or so. Helps me at least :smile</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Take it easy, Fox. Everyone has a right to be here, and everyone is valid. Everything people feel is really and you gotta respect that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Maybe you can try the advice? Bear? Pasta?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I must say I have never heard about this before, but I’m open to try it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I haven’t tried this before, but my anxiety and thoughts shows up when I leave my apartment (= agoraphobia), which means it’s kinda hard to move it to another time. But I can try? I don’t know if it works, but thank you anyways Tryra!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: and I am not welcome or what???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: If you are gonna hate on everything we say I think it’s better for all of us, if you go somewhere else :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Of course you are welcome here, Fox. But we all have a right to be here in this space, so please audit your words before you express yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firefoxfruit47: uuuh fancy!!! anyways Im gonna roll. Tutels!!!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>- firefoxfruit47 has disapeared -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Wow that escalated quickly :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: I will talk to him when we are done here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then they talked about whatever they feared the most, and they were all good at coming up with helpful advice or whatever that could lower the anxiety. For example: TopazPorcelain had some ‘ming globes’ that made a low, melodic bellsound when you moved them around in your hand. And Pasta had some music that was nice and made you relax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma herself didn’t have a lot of ideas, actually not even one, as she had a hard time handling her anxiety. Or maybe the reason was actually that she was afraid of saying something stupid. But no matter what she got more clever on the topic of anxiety. And even if she listened to/read all of the comments she quickly took special interest in TopazPorcelain, as they shared the same kind of anxiety. Even if TopazPorcelain didn’t say much - orwell… wrote.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they got to the end of the session today Teacher Reul began writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: But I wanna ask you two things today before we go. Please answer one at a time. How has it been to be here today? And what kind of plans do you have until we meet next time?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I’m gonna work. Maybe go to Disney World or something, if I have the energy. They have tormented me for weeks about having their first trip there, and as they are still young they only wanna try stuff that I can handle. That my anxiety can handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: It has been ok. Not at all as bad as I thought it would be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Yeah it has been ok. Could have been worse, even if I could have lived another day without Fox’ attitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Me too. Yeah, it was fair enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Embarrassing. I forgot the first question, haha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: No worries that could have been me. Let’s hear! :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I think it has been nice (most of the time). But yeah, it has been good. What are you guys gonna do until the next meeting?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Not much. Staying at home I think. I don’t do much really. I hope my friend will visit at some point, but I don’t know yet x)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I am trying to get enrolled into some online school soon. I hope I will get an answer this week. Maybe I’m a student the next time you see me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: What about you TP? What are you doing until next time?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: You don’t need to say anything, if you don’t wanna of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minutes ticked by before TopazPorcelain answered. Emma drummed a rhythm on the table, while she waited. She had a faintly, unfinished picture of who TopazPorcelain was, mostly because she didn’t show much personality in the chatroom other than when she put Fox in his place. But even then she was kinda excited about hearing about what she was going to do until next time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I have an appointment with my therapist soon, but other than that I’m not doing much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I hope it will be nice to talk to somebody, TP :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But TopazPorcelain didn’t answer her as the teacher was now writing. The three dots jumped almost aggressively up and down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Ok, good! I am glad you all are going to do something nice until next time. We are meeting here at the same time next week. If you use this chat in the meantime please try to keep it sober as I will not be here until the next meeting. See you all!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: See ya!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Bye bye!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Bye!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Goodbye all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma was watching the chatroom for a little while, before she logged out of the server, going back to one of the other chat rooms in the app. Sitting for a while just reading what her online friends wrote she heard a PING that made her pay attention again. A red number one indicated that someone tried to reach her by private message. She found herself clicking on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of all people in the world it was TopazPorcelain who had reached out to her. That made her eyes big before she shook her head. Why the woman messaged her she didn’t know as they hadn’t really talked in the chatroom. Which made this exchange kinda weird. But she felt butterflies in her stomach as she read her message.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Good afternoon. I hope I don’t interfere with you daily life or your afternoon routine. It’s just such a long time since I talked to someone who understood my situation. It was you who had agoraphobia isn’t that right? I hope it’s alright that I write to you in private, if not please just ignore my message. I can take a hint.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lily</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for being so slow! But here is another chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Good afternoon. I hope I don’t interfere with you daily life or your afternoon routine. It’s just such a long time since I talked to someone who understood my situation. It was you who had agoraphobia isn’t that right? I hope it’s alright that I write to you in private, if not please just ignore my message. I can take a hint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma looked at the message this morning yet again. She had gotten the message the day before, and hadn't thought of anything else since she had gotten it. How would one answer this message? React to it? The most obvious one would be to just write ‘hi’, but that was kinda lame, right? Yeah, it was silly. She had to find something more adequate. Something clever, maybe even something fancy like TopazPorcelain herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a while she was just looking at the message, reading the words again and again, until she put pen to paper - so to speak - and began writing an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Hi! And sorry I have delayed answering this message. I didn’t see it before I had closed my laptop, but it’s totally ok that you are writing to me. Of course it is, I mean… yeah, of course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just got the message done before someone pressed the doorbell. Immediately she felt the anxiety creeping in on her. Who was it? Everyone she knew called or at least send a message before showing up on her doorstep. They knew she liked it the best, if she knew they were coming, which led back to the question: Who was at the door? If she was as unlucky as always it was Jehova’s Witnesses or something silly like that. Or maybe Red Cross who was collecting money for some course. There were so many possibilities that it made Emma dizzy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even if she didn’t want to she ended up getting up from the couch, putting the laptop on the coffee table. She went for the door looking through the peep-hole. And of course it was Lily. Who else but her? It was Emma’s ex-girlfriend, and she had a tendency to show up a few times a month or something like that. Often she tried to make Emma take her back. Which was crazy because Lily was the one who broke up with </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And why? Because Lily had told Emma that she was boring because of her anxiety. Because she couldn’t just go out to eat or go to the movies. But somehow Lily ended up ‘missing her’ a few times a month, and that’s how she found her way to Emma’s apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened the door, but only a little, looking bitterly at Lily. It had been a while before life felt normal for Emma again after the break-up, and Lily showing up her didn’t really make her happy. She couldn’t act friendly towards Lily anymore. Even if she, after many talks with both her therapist and contact person, had learned that Lily was toxic for her. That their relationship had been toxic, not good for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want, Lily?” She asked, her arms crossed over her chest. It was clear to everyone that she wasn’t interested in talking to her, but Lily just ignored that without even trying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you, Emma?” She asked softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. What do you want this time?” She repeated irritably still with her arms crossed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me? I don’t want something in particular. I just wanted to know how you are.” Lily smiled superiorly, almost cat-like towards her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her red hair glowed in the sun from the window on Emma’s left, and she had a hard time not staring at her. It was beautiful as always, even impressive, but she also knew it wasn’t real. It was coloured like that. That red hair wasn’t something you could be born with, and by the way she had helped dyeing it multiple times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you well?” Lily smiled nu, if possible, with even more superiority.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have already answered that. I’m fine,” she answered rigidly, lifting her chin just slightly to look down at Lily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad. I don’t feel well though,” she kept talking with something like affection in her voice. It didn’t suit her. She stepped closer, almost in Emma’s face, adding: “I miss something. I miss </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M-me?” she cursed inwardly at herself as she stuttered, because she didn’t mean to do that, but that’s how it came out anyways. She could feel the small hairs on her neck standing as Lily moved impossibly closer. Emma had always had that reaction when Lily talked like that. That was why they had been together. When Lily hadn’t made her feel like shit she had felt special. That made her heart beat faster. She swallowed once and tried to get her thoughts and feelings under control again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ja,” she said breathlessly, stepping even closer, whispering in Emma’s ear: “You. I have missed you.“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made Emma step backwards. She both wanted and didn’t want to be close to Lily. But she wouldn’t give up, and fall for Lily’s sweet talk and under her spell. Not now. Not again. Not ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Lily. We are not gonna be together again,”she shakenly exhaled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” A feeling she couldn’t identify showed itself in Lily’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have tried this before, and it went terribly. We were both feeling like shit. We were never good together, and we will never be. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” she took a deep breath, ”-it was you who broke up with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a mistake to break up with you, Emma. You can see I’m on my knees for you right now, darling,” she tried to tell Emma, and tried to remove her arms from their crossed position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Lily, I can’t see that. We are not gonna be together. We are not good together,” she repeated defensively, moving her arms into the crossed position again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just because you are weird..” Lily mumbled lowly and Emma almost missed the words, but she didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” She gasped surprised, her eyes big. She couldn’t have said what Emma had just heard, could she?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are weird, and you have always been that way!” Lily spat aggressively stepping slightly backwards. “You are a weirdo, and you will never find another who wants to love you. You should just be happy that I want you back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lily, try to be reasonable. Just because I don’t want you… and you act like this. You always do this!” She said defensively, more than before, narrowing her eyes in anger more than surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just are so weird, and you never wanna go out and have fun! How can we go on a date, if you can’t go outside the apartment? That’s not something anyone want, damnit Emma! That’s just too strange. If you actually had pulled yourself together and tried a little, maybe I wouldn’t have broken up with you! It’s only because you are such a weirdo, and didn’t want to do anything with me!” she growled angrily, and pointed at Emma with a shaking index finger, shaking with rage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s called </span>
  <em>
    <span>anxiety</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Lily! I couldn’t even if I wanted to! Hell, I still </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>! You never understood me!” She yelled at her desperately trying to explain, but Lily’s words hit her hard, kicking the air out of her lunges, which is why she couldn’t say anything but: “I-I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you what?” Lily mocked her in an vicious way that made Emma blink away the tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to go now. I don’t wanna see you anymore. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> apartment, and you can’t just come here and insult me!” The tone started out hard and unbreakable, but her voice broke at the end of the sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> apartment!” Lily spat, flashing her white teeth in a animalistic grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But now it’s mine!” She bit at Lily, pushing her by the shoulders and then shutting the door in her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emma! Open up!” Lily yelled at her from the other side of the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma just put on the chain and locked the door. She then rested her back against it. She didn’t want Lily inside her apartment. She didn’t want Lily in her life. If she could she would have yelled even more at Lily, but she couldn’t control herself right now. She didn’t trust her voice to not shake or break in the middle of a sentence right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her whole body shook and her lower lip trembled. At the moment she could feel a panic attack creeping in on her. This was… damnit! Her breathing got more and more shallow, and her heart was cantering in a speed that made her afraid that it would break, which left her trembling. She hugged her middle trying to calm herself. It didn’t go well, you could easily say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ended up sliding down the door sitting on the floor with her back against the door, trying to calm herself, while Lily furiously punched and kicked the door calling her weirdo and worse. She felt a hard kick, which made her tremble even worse than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she tried every trick in the book. Everything she had on her plan for crises. She tried breathing through her nose, but that just made her dizzy. She tried running in place to force herself to breath normally. At some point she actually got up, got to the freezer and pulled out some ice cubes to hold in her hands. It helped a little but not enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears ran down her cheeks as she sat down on the couch with a blanket wrapped tightly around her body. She reached for her laptop, found Spotify and found some music for meditation. It helped a little. Soon after she felt herself shaking a little less. She was now slightly trembling, but she still cried soundlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sniffled pathetically, hugging her middle once again. Lily was still on the other side of the door, she could still hear her. Lily switched between calling her names and begging for Emma’s forgiveness, for Emma to take her back. Emma just shook her head, because she couldn’t do anything else right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every and all thoughts about TopazPorcelain’s message were gone now, and maybe that was a good thing. Then she could at least concentrate on getting out of the panic attack. And that was good, right? No it wasn’t, but at least the anxiety for what TopazPorcelain would answer was gone. Now it was only anxiety connected to Lily’s name calling and her noisy behaviour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe that was ok. TopazPorcelain’s message and answer was a thought for tomorrow. Or maybe for some days after that. She wasn’t sure yet.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. TP</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bc it had taken me so long to post a chapter here I am posting TWO in one day for you guys! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days has gone by since Emma had answered TopazPorcelain, and she didn’t know whether she had gotten an answer yet or not. She hadn’t checked her discord since Lily had been here because… yeah, because she didn’t want to. The hold of anxiety was strong, and she had a hard time getting out of it.</p><p>What Lily had said had hit her really hard, and she had a hard time not drowning in it. All the old insecurities from when she and Lily were still together, came back to hre and it was hard sorting out what was real and what was something Lily used to say to her.</p><p>But now she had pulled herself together. She had turned on the laptop. She had sat herself at the couch, and she was looking, no, staring, at it. Why? She couldn’t answer that question. Or maybe she could, but she didn’t want to. Because if she thought too much about it, she would end in the black hole again. And she did this to get out of there. That’s why she had clicked on the Discord icon. Maybe.</p><p>Because that was what she had done now: Clicked on Discord. And now she was there waiting for the program to start and warm up. It was almost painful the time of waiting, but relief washed over her when the program was open, and she could see the new messages she had gotten. That made her happy. She wasn’t forgotten just because she had forgotten herself. That was from where that innocent happiness had bloomed.</p><p>The first thing she did was check out the tags she had gotten on the servers. When she was done with that she moved on to the private messages popularly called PMs. She had a few messages from her online friends, but to be honest she was only interested in the message from one person: TopazPorcelain. The rest of them? Well, she kinda didn’t care. For now anyways.</p><p>She clicked on TopazPorcelain’s picture: a porcelain doll. A picture she remembered from the anxiety-chat room earlier this week. She wrote:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Articulate. That’s good. But I just wanted to know, if you maybe wanted to chat a little bit? It’s of course ok, if you don’t want to. I am, after all, a stranger to you.</p><p>TopazProcelain: I haven’t heard from you in a few days now, and even though we don’t know each other I just want to know if you are ok?</p><p>TopazPorcelain: I hope to see you in the chat tomorrow.</p><p>The last message was from today, which made Emma jump at the keyboard to answer.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Oh, sorry! I have just had a few uhm… rough days, which is why I only see your message now :see_no_evil: I’m ok now though :smile:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: I’m glad.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: That you are ok that is. I know the feeling of having rough days. Some days are hard to get through than others, and that’s ok because the better days will come again - at some point.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Yeah, that’s what my therapist always says. The thing with the better days that is. How are you today?</p><p>Emma pulled a face at herself. What a silly question. She thought, facepalming.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Fine so far, but it not more than 10 in the morning, so much haven’t happened yet. And must can happen.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t thinking tbh. I have been up for hours. I couldn’t sleep.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: It’s ok. Really. I’m kind of an early-bird myself, but my alarm clock didn’t alert me when it should, and therefore I woke up pretty late from when I usually wake up. Which was very unpleasant.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Ah, I’m not one to get up early, if I can get out of it. I’m really one to sleep in, but often my classes don't begin before noon, so that’s alright.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Oh? What do you do? You said ‘your classes’, are you still in school? I don’t remember your age, so forgive me if it’s a stupid question.</p><p>Worriedbear3: I’m 27, so that’s not a dumb question at all :smirk:</p><p>Worriedbear3: But no, I’m not in school. I’m actually the teacher.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Fascinating. What do you teach?</p><p>Worriedbear3: Primarily English, but I’m kinda influenced by my students, so if my english is a little crappy that’s why :joy:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Ah, I was kind of intrigued by your vocabulary and how it seemed very youthful at times, but then turned into something more adultery, if that makes sense.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Yeah.</p><p>Worriedbear3: What do you do?</p><p>Worriedbear3: Like work. If you work that is. We don’t all work of course, and that’s totally ok :smile:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: I work, yes. I am the Chief Director of a smaller company that sells and buys art. It’s called Roccinante, even if that doesn’t ring a bell for you, I’m sure.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Honestly? No that doesn’t ring a bell, but I’m sure you are good at it anyways. You must be that since you work it from home. I guess you do it from home right? Because I mean… we with agoraphobia don't go out much. Or I don’t at least.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Yes, I do work from home. You are right. We don’t get out much, even if we would like to. Or I don’t to be honest.</p><p>Worriedbear3: That’s what sucks about anxiety. There are so many things you can do, even if you want to. I would like to… well, for example I would like to go to the gym, but that’s really not a possibility for me atm.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: The gym? Well, that’s one wish.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Soo? It’s a good wish! It kinda sucks to do it on the living room floor tbh. :joy:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: I can understand that. On a personal level too. I do all my ‘gymming’ on my living room floor too. There aren't really a lot of options for people like us.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Yeah, there aren’t… :slight_frown:</p><p>Worriedbear: Are you looking at lessons on youtube or other places online, or do you just do it on your own?</p><p>TopazPorcelain: I do it on my own. I’m not good at following others direction and tempo.</p><p>Worriedbear3: You can’t keep up, huh? :see_no_evil:</p><p>She hoped that TP would understand that she was just teasing.</p><p>TopazPorcelain. That’s not the problem. It’s more like the trainer can keep up with me :smirk:</p><p>Worriedbear3: OMG, that was an emoji! Who would have thought you could use one of those? Not me at least :joy:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: :rolling_eyes:</p><p>Worriedbear3: Ok, point taken. I’m gonna stop teasing you with it now. It was just so cute! :joy:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: :rolling_eyes:</p><p>Worriedbear3: Ok, ok. I got it :see_no_evil:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: :rolling_eyes:</p><p>Worriedbear3: Will you only be talking in emojis from now on?</p><p>TopazPorcelain: :woman_shrugging:</p><p>Worriedbear3: Ok. I am stopping now. I promise! Pinky-promis?</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Pinky Promise.</p><p>Emma began writing something funny, when TP posted another message.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: But I have to go now. I have a video conference in 10 minuttes, and I have to be properly dressed for that.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Worriedbear3: Fair, fair. I gotta need to run a brush through my hair before my first class begins in a few hours. And OH(!) eaten some breakfast!</p><p>TopazPorcelain: I don’t really do breakfast.</p><p>Worriedbear3: That’s fair. You do whatever you gotta do :woman_shrugging:</p><p>TopazPorcelain: But goodbye, Bear. Talk to you later.</p><p>Emma didn’t know where it came from, but she wrote:</p><p>Worriedbear3: Emma. My name is Emma.</p><p>And she couldn’t stop smiling when she read TP’s answer.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Well, goodbye then Emma.</p><p>Worriedbear3: Bye TP.</p><p>TopazPorcelain: Regina.</p><p>“Regina,” she said quietly to herself, before answering.</p><p>Worriedbear3: See ya!</p><p>She was kinda disappointed when she saw that TP, no Regina, had already logged off. The small spot beside her profile picture had gotten red, so gone she was. But Emma couldn’t stop smiling. She had a name, and it was the name of a person, who knew what she was dealing with. A person who was as little with people as she did breakfast.</p><p>And the smile stayed on her face the rest of the day. Even as she later was teaching online, and her students was a pain in her ass and asked stupid questions - that she had answered last time, as a part of the class - she still smiled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Gauls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here you go! And more about Teacher Reul's background is coming up with this chapter as requested by @SereneQueen92. I hope you like it! =D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Normally Emma was more sceptical towards people, especially when she had met them online. She had experienced how they could hurt her, or make her life a living hell. People who seemed sweet one moment, could be devilish and demon-like the next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the weird part was that people were never who they seemed to be. Well, maybe it wasn’t that strange, as people could be like that in real life too, but online you almost never saw it coming. They could flip on a coin, and it was kind of impressive - if not very, very scary. But in the middle of all the scary stuff there was good parts too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a good feeling about TP - no, Regina - and she was sure this would be a good acquaintance. After all they had many of the same problems, and in that way a nice handful of things in common, even if some parts made them seem very different. It seemed like they were from two different worlds, even without really knowing anything about Regina’s past or family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Depression hadn’t occupied her thoughts much recently, especially because her life had gotten a little lighter just from having a new friend - well, acquaintance. But that was another weird part of life: depression. It was like trying to peel one potato with another potato. And on good days someone took the time to give you a potato peeler, but it somehow got lost on bad days, and you had to wait until you found it, or someone gave you a new one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But right now she was in front of her laptop inside the group chat on discord. People had begun becoming online at a slow pace. Nice and easy. The small spot beside peoples’ profile pictures became green indicating that they were now online, and she had a hard time not smiling widely when she realized that TopazPorcelain was online now too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Good afternoon everyone! I hope you have all had a good week and are ready to talk about what was decided to be today’s topic and share experience amongst each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: yo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Hey :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: How are you doing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Good afternoon to you all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I have had kinda a long day, I must admit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Oh, that doesn’t sound good. Do you wanna talk about it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: How so?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t help it. SHe smiled as she read TP’s comment on how she was. It was kind of nice with some fellow human interest, mostly because she had begun seeing TP as her friend, even if they hadn’t talked that much yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Just a long day. We can talk about it later, if you still want to. I’m sure Reul has planned something for today to talk about, so I don’t want it to revolve around me :blush: Thanks for your concern though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: No, it’s actually fine, bear. I wanted to open the talk with the topic ‘since last time’ anyways, but you got to that yourselves just so nicely. Please tell us what you are thinking, Bear. Nobody will judge you here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: i do</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: You just CAN’T be serious right now Fox! :facepalm: :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: That wasn’t a nice thing to say, Fox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: take it eeeasy. i was just joking!!! :rolling_eyes: :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I really hope you did, Fox. Because I’m not too polite to kick your ass, if you didn’t! :angry:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Easy guys and back on track please. BEar?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Ja *hrm hrm* My day has just been weird. I have this student, and I’m sure she can more than she shows in the classroom and in the group assignments. But I can’t figure out what to do. How to make her to work harder with the assignments I give her. How I motivate her in the best way. And as I work from home it’s really easy to ‘take the work home with me’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Argh, yeah ok, I can understand that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Give her goldstars to motivate her. That helps with my boys, but then again they are both younger than five, so that’s not the same for sure. I have no experience with teenagers whatsoever, but that won’t work on them I’m sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: well im a teenager and if there is something i dont wanna do then i dont do it. so to make her do something she doesnt wanna do cant be easy, but thats just what i think whatever :stuck_out_tongue:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Have you tried asking her if she wants help? Maybe she wants help, but doesn’t know how to ask for it. Just don’t mention her grades to begin with, because I’m sure that will push her away, or make it sound like she is not pulling her part of the group work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Wow, vise words!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Try to be understanding if she tells you what she needs help with. It can be really hard for her to admit that she has problems, or battles with some problems, which shows in the assignments she turns in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: One would think you had had kids or teenagers, haha!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma smilede at the screen because of Pasta’s comment, and began writing herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Sounds like a good way to approach it. To go to her and ask what she wants, that is. What she wants from this class. Maybe she has problems with the material, who knows? It’s not a class that comes easy to everyone after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: What do you teach?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: English :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Fascinating!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was when everyone began talking about what they had done since last meeting. Pasta talked about her boys being quite a handful, and that one of them had had otitis media, inflammation of the middle ear. Tryra talked about her cat’s latest adventures and how she had saved the young kitten from falling out the window - relevant to mention could be that she had an apartment on the fourth floor, and the cat falling down from there wasn’t good at all. At worst it would be killed from the fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fox told them about some Anime-series he was watching and tried to explain the plot to a chat that didn’t have the farthest idea about what he was talking about, or how Anime worked - even if Emma had watched Deathnote. And then the only ones’ left was Teacher Reul and TP.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reul gave them the short tale about the hard birth of her third grandchild, and how she had babysat her for a short period, because her daughter needed some rest. The kid had had colic and had kept the mother up night and day without giving her a quiet moment to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Ok everyone, let’s morphe into today’s topic! This might be in the more philosophical corner, but let’s try anyways. The topic is: ‘The sky is falling and other common misconceptions’. Anyone who wants to begin? Or just tell us what they think?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: what the f*** does that mean??? i dont understand any of it :grimazing: :dizzy_face:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: It’s meant to be philosophical and challenging, Fox :rolling_eyes: Not that it should be easy :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I don’t know what it means, but it seems interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fell over the chat and Emma took a short moment to look at Facebook, when a low ‘ping’ notified her that someone had said something. It was TP who had written and was still writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I am thinking about the Gauls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then TP stopped writing, but didn’t post anything. Emma’s eyebrows jumped up her forhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: You have to explain that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: if possible im even more confused than before :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I don’t understand it either I must admit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I get it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: So? Please feel free to explain anytime! :wink: :stuck_out_tongue:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: It’s all about the Asterix-comic books.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if a tone couldn’t be heard, because they were in written words it kinda had a feeling of ‘yeah, of course!’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I still don’t understand anything :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: do explain!!! :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You are on the right path Tryra. I’m impressed, I admit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Does someone in here wanna explain this to me? What are we talking about? :joy: :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Do you want to, or shall I, Tryra?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Go ahead :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Ok. To make it short there is this comic series called Asterix the Gaul. I can’t really say much about what it is about, but these ‘gauls’ has some kind of potion that gives them superhuman strength when ingested. Therefore they have no natural enemy and are not afraid of anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I’m kind of fascinated about where this is going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Expect one thing :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Yes, expect only one thing. They are so terribly afraid that the sky will fall on their heads. That’s the reference.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Exactly, haha! :see_no_evil: :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I have actually read those stories to my boy, but I would have seen the connection if you hadn’t pointed it out, TP.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I actually didn’t know that. It has been a while since I read Asterix the last time. Back to my highschool years I think :thinking:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: i only read anime i dont even know what asterix is LOL :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: That was just the first thought that popped into my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: What funny thoughts you guys have! Can I hear what you others think too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was thinking a little, turning it in her head, and when nobody else wrote anything, she began writing something herself. Someone had to say something, right? And why not her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: That love conquers all is one of those ‘other common misconceptions’ :woman_shrugging:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>PorcelainTopaz: I can agree to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: ‘The moon is made of cheese’ is another misconception I guess, or the fact that ‘the earth is flat’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yeah, haha. They believed that for many years :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: That the moon was made of cheese? :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: No, lol! That the earth was flat dammit :joy: :joy: :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: wait… someone thought that the earth was flat??? Dafuq??? :scream:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Yeah? Haven’t you paid attetion in history class or what? :rolling_eyes: :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Yes, some believed that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Someone still believes it actually. They are called ‘flat earthers’ or something like that :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: really??? :O</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I kid you not :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: wow, crazy!!!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: People are crazy…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Do you wanna know what I have thought with the topic?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Give it a go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: spit it out!!! :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: All the things you guys have mentioned. They are all stuff people believed once, but then they learned it wasn’t true. Exactly like many other things in this world, like for example catastrophic thoughts that many people with anxiety experiences. And to overcome the anxiety you can put the thoughts through a test, and get out on the other side understanding that what you thought wasn’t true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: For example if you go outside to be amongst other people you die. It’s an eligible feeling, but if you can overcome it you will see that maybe it wasn’t as true as you thought it was. That you can go outside and not die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: you can easily say that. you have never tried to have anxieties :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: And how do you know that, Fox? She has an education so she knows this stuff. Try to act just a little bit like an adult for christ’s sake :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: You don’t have to be so hard on him, Tryra. He is still young and has much to learn. Compared to us golden oldies at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Oh well :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: I don’t have anxiety myself, the diagnosis at least, but I have a friend who has it and I have been in classes who have taught me how anxiety works. And I have talked to many people with anxiety through times. But I don’t claim to know everything of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: But back on track: what kind of anxious thoughts have you had and solved? And how?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I once had a hard time being in groups, especially as a student, but it has gotten better. Maybe because I know people there now. The anxiety is not gone amongst strangers though, but it’s much easier to talk to people online than in the real life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: That’s primarily why I’m in this group. I can’t be in normal anxiety-groups without freaking out :frown:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul:What is it about being in a group that scares you Tryra?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: That people will think I’m weird and stuff. Crazy :woman_shrugging:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I know that feeling Trya. Especially if it’s new people, strangers. But I can’t begin to imagine how it must feel for you at that degree. You have social anxiety, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Yeah, that’s me :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I get what Tryra is saying. Agoraphobia here, if someone doesn’t remember. I don’t like going out alone. Especially not like wide spaces. Makes me real’ uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: im the opposite. im scared of small places where i cant get away :fearful:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Claustrophobia?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: claustrophobia yep :facepalm: </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Can we try concentrating on specific thoughts? For example why one don’t like going out? What one more specifically are afraid of?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Uh yeah, sorry. Of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Nothing to be sorry about. It’s ok. I am just trying to lead you down a specific path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I have a fear about my food going bad and making me sick. I haven’t overcome that one though. But I try to keep it in check by throwing out food 3 to 4 days before the expiration date. It helps a little. But my thoughts just circle around on the fact that I can maybe get sick by eating it, even if it’s freshly bought and everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: I have a hard time handling bacterias. For example I am more specifically afraid of getting sick. Thoughts could be like: ‘will I get sick from this?’, ‘is this clean enough?’ etc. :frown:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: I feel that Tryra! Especially around my kids, because kids and kids and very messy. Picking food up from the floor and eating it and stuff like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Oh yes! My sister’s kids does that too! And the floor is never really clean-clean when you have four kids :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: you are scared of bacterias??? why??? they are everywhere???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: And the plot thickens…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: huh???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: And that is exactly one of those comments I don’t need to hear, Fox :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: It triggers our anxiety Fox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I have had anxiety in connection to talking to people on the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I still have that one. But I have gotten ok with the videochat thing. I need that for my work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh yes, you are a teacher. I almost forgot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: You are a teacher? How do you do that with agoraphobia? :no_mouth:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: By teaching online :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Aaah. Of course! :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Anyways, you were saying TP? :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Just that I overcame it slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Which thoughts did you have in that context?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I didn’t have any specific thoughts like that, but I got really anxious when I as much as thought about talking on the phone with a stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I can add my thoughts to the mix, if that’s ok? I just think that people will think I’m a bumbling idiot. Or that I say something wrong or weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: It’s possible that that is what I thought too. I didn’t really analyze my thoughts as such.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: How did you overcome it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: I think that was my line, haha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Oh sorry!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: It’s totally ok. It just shows that you are invested in the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Ok. Back to TP. How did you overcome it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I started out small. In the beginning someone was sitting beside me to cheer me on, when I felt like - to use Bear’s word - a ‘bumbling idiot’. Someone who could take over the conversation, if it just got too much for me. When I could do that pretty surely, I practised on friends with different topics they threw at me at random.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Maybe I should try that. But I think I have to begin at level zero, as I can’t even talk to my friend over the phone :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: And like that I was suddenly good at talking about… telephone subscriptions and other topics people would throw at me when calling me randomly. Like telemarketers. And I got good at saying ‘no’ to things I didn’t want to buy. Just saying ‘no’ and then hanging up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Sorry I didn’t see you had written Bear. I can maybe explain it to you in depth later? If you wanna try it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I would like that :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the conversation went back and forth on more specific examples on what people in the chat were afraid of. They were all good at trying to find solutions to the problems, if the one telling hadn’t overcome his or her anxiety yet. Even Fox began being nicer to the others. Or at least nicer than he had been earlier on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Ok guys, we are nearly finished for today, and we need to talk about what we will be doing until next time. Is that ok for everybody?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Sure thing :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Lad os bare det.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: we didn’t do that last time?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: You left early, remember?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: oh yeah :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Anyways, I’m going to school and that, so that’s that I guess. We have an midterm exam that I really fear for, but I am working with my therapist, so hopefully it will be ok.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: Just look after my boys and go to work I guess? We have louse in the kindergarten, so I have to keep them home and bomb their hair. They have to be louse free before I send them back again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: imma play some video games with a friend or something. and be at school and such. i dunno :man_shrugging:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I just have work I think. Not much else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why TP hadn’t talked about that they had talked earlier she didn’t understand, but maybe it wasn’t information to be spread amongst the others? She didn’t know and she found that she didn’t care either. She liked to talk to TP, and it seemed like it was mutual. And that made her happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yeah, work. Maybe something creative too, and if I know Ruby right we are gonna play some video games at some point through the week, I think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teacher Reul: Boringly enough I have work too. Maybe some gardening too? Anyways, goodbye everyone! Remember it’s ok to use the chat when I’m not here, but keep it sober please! Have a good afternoon!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>firefoxfruit47: byyye!!! :smile_cat:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tryravine: Yeah, take care! :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Basicpasta: The boys are yelling at each other, I have to go. Bye!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Good afternoon everyone. Goodbye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Bye bye!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Boogie Wonderland, or something like that</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here ya go! I hope this story lives up to what I have tried to present to you in the Summary!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The key to being a good friend had always been dangling in front of Emma’s nose, but today it felt like she had caught up with it again. Finally! She had grabbed her laptop as soon as she woke up, turned on the thing and gone directly to Discord. She was free today, no work no anything, so she could spend the whole day chatting with TP if she wanted to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if TP was online that is. Emma hoped she was though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clicked at their private chat, and smiled as she saw she had gotten a message from TP. Somehow she had gotten used to calling her TP and not Regina. Maybe because it was shorter? She didn’t know. It just seemed so weird to use an IRL name, when you chatted on Discord. It was like a nickname. Even though TP called her Emma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Emma liked it, when she did that. It felt kinda warm and fuzzy when TP used her name, even if it was only in text. In a chat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Good Morning. Did you have a good night’s sleep?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TP had messaged her around 10 minutes ago, so Emma quickly typed her respons. Even if the spot on her profilpicture was red. That indicated that she was offline. But maybe she had just clicked on the offline button, and was still here somehow. Emma hoped that. If she was lucky that was. She wrote:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Hey TP. Yeah, I slept ok. Have you slept well? :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waited impatiently while drumming on the armrest of the couch, waiting for TP’s answer. If she answered. And she did. Luckily. The small spot turned green and the dots and TP’s username appeared in the bottom of the chat indicating that she was writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I can’t really complain. Or I can with you, I know that, but I had a good sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Good to hear. Do you have work today? Or nothing at all?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Emma had send the message she got kinda nervous. What if TP had a lot to do and didn’t have time to chat all day? She hoped she didn’t have any work to do, because she really just wanted to chat all day. When she chatted with TP she felt kinda free. Like a huge stone was removed from her back. She felt lighter somehow. Airier even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I have a video conference in 15 minutes or so, but after that I’m all yours, Emma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corners of her lips turned upwards at that comment. She was kinda sad about TP not being able to spend the whole day with her, but on the other hand that expectation had never really been realistic. Of course she had something else to do. But she tried to focus on the last thing TP had written: But after that I’m all yours, Emma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Well, I will leave you to it then. So you can get ready. Makeup, breakfast and all that :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could she that TP was writing, so she typed as fast as possible to post her answer before her. She already knew TP’s answer somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear: Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t do breakfast :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Fantastic. Now I had to delete my answer because you were faster than me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Sorry :pleading_face: You are not mad at me are you? :fearful:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You know very well that I can be mad at you for too long. It gives me wrinkles you know :wink: And I won’t let you give me, more, wrinkles, you know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: And you are sure it’s not just because I’m indescribably cute? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: That is possible, but hush! The conference begins in seconds, I gotta go. See you later Em-ma :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a had time not blushing at the way TP split her name. She could even imagine her voice saying ‘Emma’ just like that. And that made her legs feel like jello.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: See ya TP! :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some time she was just watching the chat, before she noticed that the spot had turned red again. TP was offline, for real this time, and would answer her right now. Not before later at least. Which is why she put the laptop on the table, and stood up. Why not making some breakfast, when she had no one to chat with anyways?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked towards the kitchen. Stopping in front of the kitchen cabinet she pulled out a brand new package of Coco Pops. Yes she was kinda muscular and in good shape, but that didn’t have anything to do with her diet. A doctor had once told her that he was surprised that she hadn’t gotten fat yet. It was impressive - his words, not Emma’s - that she could eat like that and look like she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smilled at her reflection in the window beside the cabinet, and pulled out a bowl from another cabinet. From a drawer she pulled out a spoon, and then she cracked the box open, pouring a generous amount of sugary cereal into the bowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she was finished pouring the Coco Pops into the bowl, to the edge of it, she pushed the drawer closed with her hip, dancing towards the fridge. From there she pulled out the milk, pouring it over the Coco Pops. From the Coco Pops came a low crackling sound as she danced into the kitchen towards the laptop. But she stopped when she realized that there was no music on. She was dancing to nothing. In complete silence. That was kinda awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flopped down on the couch with the bowl in her lap, and borrowed the spoon’s head in the cereal pulling out a big spoonful and popping it into her mouth. She chewed thoroughly and eyed the laptop. If she didn’t have anything else to do - and she didn’t - she could just check Facebook or something until TP was online again. But then she thought about the dancing from before, and put on some music she could kinda sway to while eating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scrolled through the front page of YouTube to find a song she wanted to listen to. But the Rock music on the front page seemed all wrong right now. She wanted something she could really rock out while listening to. Maybe some Pop actually? Yes, that would be nice!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made her click on search and type. Then scroll until she found what she wanted to listen to. Soon after ‘What You Want’ from Legally Blonde blasted from the laptop’s speakers loudly. She just cracked up the sound until she was almost blown away by the sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally she wasn’t exactly a Musical-person or anything, but today she wanted something kinda bubble-gummy. Even if Legally Blonde wasn’t a favorite of hers. Normally she actually thought it was kinda stupid, but right now it fit her mood perfectly. Maybe she actually felt kinda stupid-happy today? She felt so light, and she wouldn’t let a bad musical ruin a fun song for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the couch she was rocking with the music while showing the cereal into her mouth. She was chewing to the rhythm of ‘What You Want’ humming along between mouthfuls, because she couldn’t stop herself. Somehow today this was a good song. Or not good but at least fun. And that was what was important right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chewing through the Coco Pops didn’t take long, when you chewed like Emma did, and she almost greadily drank the milk left. It had turned into cocoa milk and that was delicious! Or at least right now it was. She liked all things sweet, and if it tasted like cocoa or chocolate she was more than happy!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She put the bowl on the table while drumming on her thighs. Then the song was done and another began. She looked at the screen and cheered as ‘So Much Better’ from the same musical began to play. She stood up, and began to wriggle her way through the appartment while singing. And even if she didn’t know most of the lyrics she just sang ‘nanana’. Even missing lyrics couldn’t destroy her mood right now!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she danser she realized that she could of course multitask. While dancing she saw that there was a lot of dust on the shelfs. Damnit! She cursed in her head, and went towards the kitchen to find a rag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking into the lower cabinets with her ass in the air, while making a big mess, she wriggled to the beat trying to find a clean rag - to actually was them before they ran out had never been a thing she was good at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tada!” She yelled in excitement and she pulled out a rag and fistbumped herselv in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she wasn’t upside down anymore, she threw the rag into the sink high fiving herself when it went in, and turned the water on hot. Soon after cool water ran over the rag. She put her finger under the water waiting for it to get hotter, before she took out the rag and twisted it hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she danced into the living room again, swinging with the rag like a flag. Or a pompom. Like the one cheerleaders use, even if she had never been the cheerleader type. Ok she had blonde hair and she was athletic and that was that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the living room she began taking stuff from the shelves and putting them on the coffeetable instead. She danced back- and forth between the shelves and the coffee table a few times before she had everything off of the shelves. She began cleaning the dust off the shelves then. It was done fast and effectively, but still to the beat of the music that had changed to ‘Omigod You Guys’ from - yes, you are right!  - Legally Blonde again!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When done with the cleaning she left the stuff - books and what not - on the coffee table, and went to the kitchen again. She needed to dry off the shelves. With something dry that was. Which meant she had her butt in the air again, swaying to the music, and the head inside the cabinet trying to find a dish cloth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fistbumping herself in the air again she left for the living room again, drying off with the dish cloth. The rag was in the sink. It would be there for a while, as she often forgot rags there. Maybe she would remember it tonight. Maybe. She was a master in forgetting rags and what not in the sink and on the kitchen table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she was finished drying off, almost anyways, she heard a loud PLING from the laptop. With a smile on her lips she threw the dish cloth over her shoulder </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> running towards the laptop. That little PLING meant she had gotten a message. Hopefully from TP!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rubbed her hands together in excitement waiting for the computer to open. It had of course went to sleep while playing music. Maybe not sleep but the screen was black and she had to type in her password and everything. Doing that quickly she wrote it wrong the first time, but the second time it was correct. There was a message on Discord!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was from TP!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She quickly clicked away from YouTube, turning the sound down a little with one hand while clicking on Discord with the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: The meeting is done. As far as I can see you are not online-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she was! She was on ‘invisible’!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: -, but if you are here I am here now too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rubbed her hands against eachother yet again, cracking her knuckles and began typing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Hey! I’m here! Somehow put on ‘invisible’, I don’t know how :joy</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clicked herself back on online, smiling at herself while waiting for TP to answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Lovely. I’m glad you are online though! I had a very long conference, and I kind of need to let out some steam :angry:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Whatever you need, I’m here :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Thank you Dear. I’m glad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Let me hear. Let it out! :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Case is… those I was about to buy from just raised the price, and my staff decided to only inform me of that today. Even if they had known it since yesterday at lunchtime. They are hopeless, and didn’t know what to do - apparently - and thought it was better to let me know today, when I can hardly do anything about it. And this… deal will just… well, seems like it will die just like that :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Oh. Damnit! I hope you can safe it!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she added:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: If anyone can do it, it’s you!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You are sweet. But I can’t safe this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Unless…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Unless? :open_mouth:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Give me a minute. I will be right back!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Emma waited. ‘I’ll be right back’ actually meant an hour, because that was she time that went by before TP answered her again. Emma didn’t message her as she didn’t want to interrupt something important. It was TP’s livelihood after all, this art dealing business, and even if Emma didn’t understand much of it it was important to TP and therefore also for Emma. And she didn’t wanna do anything that could in any way destroy what TP was doing. The possibility TP had seen when she told her to give her a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma ended in the Facebook-trap, and killed an hour before TP wrote her back.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Thinking of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a little gift for you guys. Yet another chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I’m so sorry I was gone for such a long time. I needed to sort out some things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: It’s ok. I can entertain myself after all :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I had promised you to be here and talk to you, so I think you needed an apology from me. And I needed to give you one too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: No worries. It’s your job, and you have to do your job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Don’t argue with me on this. I’m apologizing and that’s the end of it. Period.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Ok, ok, I surrender! :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Anyway, we were talking - in the group chat - about anxiety and that and I was thinking…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You were thinking?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Don’t sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> surprised :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I just tried to understand what you were saying :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Just what we were talking about then and how you said you could elaborate it for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Cut to the case, Dear. I don’t understand what you are saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You could give me some tips and such…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh yes, about the phonecalls, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yes, that… :blush:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Why didn’t you just say so?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Because…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Because what?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: If you didn’t want to talk about it, or if I triggered anything. Or if you were just being nice in the chat. Could be triggering, I don’t like to talk much about anxiety, because it can trigger :pensive:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You should never be afraid to talk to me about anything. Really. It’s ok, and I will tell you, if there is something I don’t want to talk about. You won’t be in doubt about it, if I don’t want to talk about something :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Ok :3</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: But you wanna talk about this now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yes, if you want to?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Of course. You just put the hammer directly to the nail, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I just want to get it over with tbh :blush:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Let us begin then. Can you elaborate what your problem with talking on the phone is? Shortly. I just wanna understand how my advice can help you :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Just… I don’t like talking on the phone with anyone. It’s just sooo awkward, from my side at least, and I never know what to say. Not even to my friends. SMS and chats are ok for me that’s really no problem, but taking ‘live’ makes me feel all weird and awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Hmm…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You think I’m pathetic right? :confused:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: No no. Of course I don’t! I have been there myself, dear, if you remember :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Thanks :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: For what, dear?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: For you to make me feel less stupid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You are not stupid, and I think deep down you know that too :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Anyways, tips?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Yes, of course. Give me a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma smiled at the answer. Because last time TP asked for a moment an hour had gone by. And she really hoped that wasn’t the case this time too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Ok. Let me begin like this: I have always felt like I was saying the wrong things when talking on the phone. Mostly when I was talking to strangers or people I had just met. So that part I know. But as I said in the groupchat: It’s all about practicing with someone you are close to and are familiar with talking to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Even with my good friends it’s hard though. They know to text and not call me :S</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I get that, but maybe it would be easier for you, if you knew before talking to them what you were going to talk about? Therefore agreeing on what to talk about before actually calling each other? Like deciding on a topic? And staying on that? Of course that can make it feel kind of artificial, but at least you can actually decide - before the actual conversation - what you are going to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I don’t think I have tried to do that before actually. But maybe I could try that, hmmm… :thinking:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: In all circumstances it’s worth a try. And if it doesn’t work then at least you have tried it. How are phone calls different from your online classes? :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Uhm… that’s actually hard to answer. But it’s basically like everything works in shifts, unless I am talking about something in particular. All questions end up in my inbox, and I can answer them from there. But when I teach it’s like making a presentation. I have tried it a million times before, and I know exactly what to say and when - and that way it’s just easier I guess :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh. That makes perfect sense Emma, hmm</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I’ll admit that when I wrote it I had my fingers crossed on the fact that it actually made sense :see_no_evil: :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You give yourself all but too little credit, dear. You can say smart things. Once in a while at least :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Oh well :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Did you solve that problem btw.?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Half and half. Now it’s up to my staff to go and get the painting and hopefully not screw more up than they had already done. I am going to pay more for the painting that was originally planned, but at least I established the price this time and got a contract that tells the price. Something my staff forgot the last time, which is why the salesman could raise the price out of nowhere :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: He could really do that? Damnit! :O That’s so stupid! :facepalm:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Yes that’s highly exasperating to be honest, but that just tells me that I have to watch them like a hawk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Unbelievable! But I’m glad you could save the deal :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Somebody has to save it, sigh. And as I am the manager it is somehow my job, when they don’t do their job and screw up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You just saved their asses, ha! :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I guess I did that. But that doesn’t mean that everyone will keep their job. Somebody is up for a firing. When I find out who forgot the contract I will show that someone the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedber3: :O Really? For one mistake? I mean… I’m sure it wasn’t his intention to make it harder for you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: But it’s one mistake too many. I can run this company and at the same time tolerate stupidity like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: But still. Like give him a chance? For me and my stupidities’ fault? :pleading_face:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I already accept your stupidities, isn’t that enough?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: But you destroy the man’s livelihood if you fire him :confused:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: And he destroys mine when he makes mistakes. And keeps making them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: But still :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: ‘But still’ isn’t an argument, dear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: But it could be, if you gave it a chance :tongue_out:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: ‘But still’ can never be an argument, no matter how you water and weed it :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Garden expert huh? :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I have a balcony, where I grow carrots, yes?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: With a job like yours - and I know nothing about the profession at all - I would have guessed that you would be the house or penthouse-type of girl :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Really? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yup. Totally! :joy</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: No, seriously. I mean it. You seem like the type who doesn’t want for anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I’m not sure you are completely right. I definitely miss </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yeah, getting outside without the anxiety gnawing on your insides. Just like me. But beside that you have everything, I think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: That must be the exaggeration of the century. I don’t have everything. I have what I need, that’s it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Oh, no emojis? That must mean that you are serious! :see_no_evil: What kind of computer do you have?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Pardon?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: The computer? What kind of computer do you have? :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: A Macbook, but what does it have to do with anything?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I just had to be sure I was right. You have </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: And what kind of laptop do you have?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: So yours is a laptop too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Don’t avoid the question, dear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: A like reeeeally old Asus :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Hmm….</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Are you hating on my baby? :O</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: No no. You just seemed more high tech than that. That’s all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: And I’m not high tech if I have an Asus or what? :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I didn’t say that :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: But that’s exactly what you said :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma laughed at the conversation. It was funny to tease TP, and it made her happy. She wasn’t the least shocked by TP and what she wrote, not at all. Actually she just thought this was funny, laughable, whatevs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Maybe I did. You just seem like a tech nerds, and I just thought you had a different type of laptop. I can actually admit it, when I’m wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: No worries, I’m ok. I’m not shocked in any way. I just think it’s funny that you have thought of me :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Why shouldn’t I? I often think about the people I chat with :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You do? What else have you thought about me? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait… was this flirting? Or what was going on?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Me? I have thought about all kinds of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Soo? About what? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: About what you look like for example :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: And what have you imagined? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Nothing too specific, but I would like to know your eye color, maybe?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a hard time not laughing at that last message. It was almost… sweet? Mostly because normally TP was really confident, and this was the opposite. It was fun to see her step out of the comfort zone. Even if just for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: My eye color? Really? I don’t get to hear what you have thought about me and my hot body?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could feel a small self confidence boost, and that made her write like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Yes. And over my dead body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Over your dead body? Now I’m beginning to get really curious!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: My eyes are blue btw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Light or dark?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I think they call it ice blue or icy blue?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Interesting…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: And yours?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: My what?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Eyes :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Dark Brown :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: How dark?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: My eyes?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Your panties!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: What?! :confused:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yes, your eyes damnit :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Dark. Like coffee brown :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: That’s dark. No pun intended. Almost black then?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: In a certain light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: That sounds creepy and gorgeous at the same time :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You mean that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You will soon discover that I rarely say stuff I don’t mean :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Nice to know :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her stomach began to roar loudly, and she looked at the clock. It was more than 7PM!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Do you know what time it is?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I can’t believe I do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: It’s 19:30</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: We have talked for long, yes? What am I missing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbar3: Dinner of course! I have snacked a little through our talk, but I need my dinner to function :wow:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Hell yes ‘oh’! I need to find something to eat. Or rather: make something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I guess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Short answers, what am </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>missing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You are not missing anything. I’m just tired I guess. We talk tomorrow then. Is that ok?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Sure. I gotta make food anyways. I’m hungry like a wolf, haha! How is it that none of us have realized the time? It’s past dinnertime!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I don’t know. Maybe I just enjoyed myself?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> have enjoyed myself too. Mostly because normally I don’t overhear my own stomach. It was screaming for food and still does! :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Then feed that </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster </span>
  </em>
  <span>:smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I will do that. You too. See ya!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I guess. Talk to you tomorrow :slight_smile:</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Ruby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for taking so long! But I am writing 2 stories atm. and I'm soo busy with trying to make everyone happy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Putting the laptop away Emma went to the kitchen to try to figure out what to cook for herself to eat. When she didn’t find anything worth eating in the fridge, she went to the freezer. Messing around in the freezer she soon after found some frozen tomato soup. She could warm that, even if she didn’t have any… no, wait! She pulled out a frozen garlic bread from the freezer too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She then smacked her lips together and couldn’t do much but looked forward to eating it. Even if it wasn’t the most exciting food ever, she could eat it anyway. Garlic bread wasn’t a thing to overlook! It tasted pretty good, if Emma said so herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as she put the soup into a pot, and turned on the oven she got a text. Or at least her text-sound ran through the apartment loudly enough for her to hear. She quickly went to the living room, and looked around for the phone. Soon after she found it amongst all the other stuff lying on the coffee table. Things she had put there when she earlier cleaned the shelves, but never put back in their place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a text from Ruby, one of Emma’s good friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby: What’s up blondie? Are we going clubbing? :partying_face:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips turned into a frown as she got slightly annoyed at herself, and quickly responded to the text. Even if Emma had never said yes to such an invitation Ruby often asked her anyways. But then again, her friend didn’t know about Emma’s agoraphobia, so maybe it actually made sense. Maybe she just asked and asked, and hoped that Emma would one day say yes?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma: Not tonight. I’m in the middle of dinner :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby: I will come over then. Haven’t eaten yet anyways!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma just shook her head, smiling slightly as she texted back that it was fine. After all one thing she wasn’t wanting for was more soup. She had plenty, and as Ruby had a habit of inviting herself over to Emma’s place more than once a week she was always prepared. It wasn’t something now, so she just accepted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon after, as the soup was ready, the doorbell rang. It was Ruby of course. Emma smiled at her, letting her inside the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Blondie, how are you?” Ruby greeted her. She almost always said ‘hello’ like that, and Emma liked that she repeated herself like that. It made her feel safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much, not much Rubs,” she teased with the nickname that was more of a despised nickname. There was one thing you should know about Ruby: She hated being called ‘Rubs’. Emma was the only one who could get away with doing that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> call me that, Blondie,” she answered sharply with a spark in her eyes that told Emma that it was kind of ok. Or at least she would let it pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma stuck out her tongue at her, before she went to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what have you been do-” Ruby stalled, surely as her eyes landed on the coffee table. Then she began giggling and yelled out to Emma in the kitchen: “What the hell are you doing, Blondie? It looks like the destruction of Jerusalem in here!“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? What? Where?” Emma answered kinda confused, and walked into the living room with a whole, frozen garlic bread in her right hand. And then she looked at the coffee table, and yes, her friend's description fit quite well: The destruction of Jerusalem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your table dammit!” She laughed and wheezed while trying to breath as she clapped her hands to her thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. That.” She shrugged slightly, and grinned at Ruby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” Ruby said expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what?” Emma answered, clearly confused as to what was expected of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An explanation maybe?” Ruby winked at her, before starting to talk again: “Have you had a guy over or something </span>
  <em>
    <span>humpty-humpty </span>
  </em>
  <span>going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha! The probability of that is so near zero, and we are almost going into minus!” she laughed shortly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby just looked at her, smiling and said nothing at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I was just… doing some dusting?” Yes it sounded more like a question, but that was exactly what she had been doing. Even if it didn’t sound like she believed in what she had just said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your stuff is on the coffee table collecting dust because..?“ Ruby seeked out an answer with a grin on her face, and eyes twinkling with laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” she began, but stalled. She was just looking pensively into the air, and then at the stuff before she began: “Got caught by something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So there was no guy, but somehow you got ‘caught by something else’? And who is this ‘something else’?” She made air quotes around some of the words while smiling widely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just joined a new Discord group aaaaand… someone messaged me?” Yet again it sounded like a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone?” Ruby looked at her expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone from the group sent me a PM,” she breathed, and tried to avoid her friend's eyes, which was giving her a hawklike look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he hot? Or her? Must be her since you claim there was no boy here,” she laughed lightly, putting a hand on her hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know what she looks like,” she answered, almost forced as she bit into her lower lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you want to!” She squealed excitedly, clapping her hands together. “Åååh chemistry! It’s so beautiful!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, wow! Slow down! It’s just someone I happen to like talking to, Ruby. No reason to plan my wedding just yet,” she chuckled at her trying to fake being casual, but her voice was shaking and Ruby caught onto it like a shark in the water smelling blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said anything about a ‘wedding’, that’s your words not mine. But then you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> thinking about getting married to her!” Yet another squeal escaped her lips of the red head, as she bumped her hip into Emma’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I haven’t… I didn’t say… I-” She just flabbergasted looking at Ruby with an open mouth, not knowing what to say. The look of disbelief in her eyes was clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah! Stop kicking the horse while it’s running! I’m not trying to pressure you into something. I’m just happy that you are meeting others. You deserve to be happy, and be with someone who makes you happy!” She said with a smile, “Not like that girl </span>
  <em>
    <span>LIly</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she spat like she had something disgusting on her tongue. That Ruby didn’t like LIly wasn’t exactly news. She had never liked her, right from the beginning actually. Emma had just spent too much time before she understood that Lily wasn’t good for her - or that was Ruby’s opinion on that matter anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Emma? She couldn’t do much but opening and closing her mouth a few times, but then she smelled something that smelled burned. She sniffed the air before cursing and running into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happening, Blondie?” Ruby yelled after her in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Burning!” was all Emma said. In that short time she had all but forgotten that she was making soup. But also what soup was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Who is burning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma had a hard time not chuckling at her, because it was so typical of Ruby to ask ‘who’ and not ‘what’. She began stirring the soup, so it would melt into the bottom of the pot. Seriously? Who burned soup? She thought, shaking her head at herself still with a frozen garlic bread in the other hand not currently occupied with the stirring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she heard footsteps, surely because she hadn’t answered Ruby, and shortly after the friend was in the kitchen too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatcha burning?” Ruby asked, as she moved to stand beside Emma, looking down into the pot. “Soup? Really?” She asked in a critical tone, but she was smiling from ear to ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she answered, grimacing awkwardly and added, “It’s ok, right? You do eat tomato soup, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby just began laughing, patting Emma on the shoulder. “It’s great, Blondie. I will clean up your coffee table, ok?” Her hand brushed Emma’s upper arm for a short moment as she asked, but she was already in the kitchen before Emma could answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok!” She answered with delay and facepalmed, before stirring wildly again. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>would not</span>
  </em>
  <span> burn this!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning down the heat on the soup, to make sure it would stay warm and not burn, she popped the garlic bread into the oven, and went into the living room again. She had put the timer on, so she wouldn’t have to worry about burning the bread too. Or even get black just the slightest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the living room the red head was putting the books back on the shelves, and that just made Emma smile. She was always so helpful, especially when she could sense that Emma needed it. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>PST</span>
  </em>
  <span> she often could! Even if she didn’t know about her anxiety diagnosis, she knew that Emma’s life was harder than most peoples’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Blondie? Do you wanna help, if you are done burning the food?” Ruby threw a book towards Emma which she caught clumsily, but at least she didn’t drop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” was her answer as she began putting the stuff back to where it came from (bum bum bum xD).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time went by, by putting stuff in its place, and when they were nearly done the timer began beeping from the kitchen. Ruby was already going to the kitchen to turn it off, but Emma stopped her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, let me. You have already cleaned up my mess, even if you didn’t have to, I bring in the food,” She had lifted her hands in a stop-motion, and brushed past Ruby towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned off the oven, but let the bread stay in for a few more minutes. Then she pulled out a bowl and put some soup into it. When it was in the bowl she lifted it with both hands, carrying it into the living room. She kept </span>
  <em>
    <span>eye contact</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the soup all the way in, and then gave it to Ruby as she reached the couch where they normally ate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful, it’s soup!” The words came out of her mouth incorrectly, before she had a chance to think. She wanted to say ‘be careful it’s hot’ and ‘here is your soup’ at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quickly she got beet red in the head, and Ruby just laughed at her. And what could Emma do but join her? She had really talked nonsense just there. She laughed until she couldn’t breath and had her arms wrapped around her middle. When her friend had put the bowl on the table she fell into hugging her, still laughing out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit Blondie!” she breathed between laughing fits, “You are gonna be the death of me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry!” Emma answered still red in the head, and tried to hide behind her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no! Don’t be embarrassed! I love you and your weird way with words.” She squeezed Emma’s shoulder, and hugged her again, and she let her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting like that for a while, before Emma tapped her shoulder, mumbling: “The soup is getting cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes,” Ruby answered with drying tears of laughter on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon after they were sitting with some soup and garlic bread each, and just munching it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is your last chance!” Ruby screamed into her ear, moving the controller around wildly, almost in loops, as if she could make the car move faster like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn left, dammit!” Emma laughed back at her, nudging her with her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t push!” came from Ruby as she facepalmed, “Look!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Ruby spat out a series of curses so fast that Emma wasn’t able to differentiate them. She just pat her shoulder, and flashed her a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that bad-” she began, but then she grinned like a cheshire cat, as she laughed and continued: “-that I totally kicked your ass!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noooo! I was almost winning!” she whined, but also laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no you weren't!” she laughed back with a spark in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You pushed!” She pointed accusatory at Emma, who just pushed her again - this time with her hand. “Hey! You did it again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pft, no I didn’t!” she chuckled and pointed at the tv again. “Anyways, </span>
  <em>
    <span>loser</span>
  </em>
  <span> are we gonna play some more or what?“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby just hit her on the shoulder, mumbling something about cheaters and their doings before she turned on the game again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. SOS Laptop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the waiting! I have had a really bad writer's block!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emma’s eyes were peaking just slightly above the rim of the cup, as she lazily tried to look for her laptop. She had coffee in one hand and a piece of bread in the other, while trying to figure out where the hell she put the laptop yesterday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With thumb and index finger she was tweezing the toast, as she scratched herself around the eye with the pinky. She couldn’t do much like this without getting bread crumbs in her eyes. She cursed quietly. Yesterday was quite a late night. As always she had been chatting with TP far into the night. That had become their routine as that was when they had the most time for chatting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But to be able to chat with her, she had to find that damn laptop! Where was it? She thought annoyed, and walked around the apartment trying to look everywhere, while spilling crumbs everywhere too. She began in the kitchen, but quickly left it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would it be in the kitchen?” she asked herself in an irritable tone that made it clear to everyone just how stupid she thought herself to be a the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she went to the living room to look there for what felt like the millionth time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if 5 minutes went by before she thought of putting the coffee down, so she could actually do some looking, and not only with her eyes, but also her hands. She rolled her eyes at herself, when she got the thought feeling very stupid. How dumb are you allowed to be, Emma?! She thought, while looking for the laptop, the coffee now on the coffee table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spent around half an hour to an hour trying to find it, and at that time the coffee had surely gone cold. Actually she ended up giving up, sitting down on the couch, when she spotted it. It was placed on the top shelf on the TV table, squeezed in between the top of the shelf and the DVD player. It really looked like her laptop, even if it truly could be anything, if she was being honest with herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it unmistakably looked like a laptop. Hmm…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Therefore she jumped up from the couch, walking towards the TV table, and tried to pull the flat thing out. But… it wasn’t the laptop. It was… well, to be true she wasn’t quite sure what it was. It looked like a computer, but wasn’t one. Not a whole one at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when she turned it over she saw that it was a screen. Where had she gotten that? She didn’t know really. It wasn’t even a normal screen for a desktop, but the screen from a laptop. Which meant it wasn’t of any use at all. It couldn’t even stand without support!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn trash!” she mumbled to herself, and threw the screen on the couch. She had to find that stupid Asus!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she went on laptop huning yet again. This time she went to her bedroom, and started from scratch. She began with the closet by pulling out everything and looking them over. Sometimes she really found her stuff in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>weirdest </span>
  </em>
  <span>of places! Which turned out to be right for today too, because when she pulled out the underwear drawer she found the Asus lying amongst lace underwear and bras. How the hell it ended up there she didn’t know, but at least she had found it now!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“YAS!” she yelled through the apartment, as she lifted her hand up in the air ready for a high five.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then she shook her head. She was alone dammit! She then ended up just highfiving herself with the other hand. What else could she do? Nobody could see her looking like an idiot anyways. She was alone. Blessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat on the bed, turning on the laptop. When it was finally up and running she looked at the clock and realized to her own consternation that there was less than 10 minutes ‘till the class began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!” she cursed, tossing the laptop on the bed and put her head inside the closet to look for clothes to wear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How in the sweet mercy of the Lord should she be able to put makeup and clothes on and log into the class system in less than 10 minutes? It wasn't possible! It defied the laws of physics! She had to prioritize. Scratching the back of her neck she pulled on a white t-shirt, and jumped into the least-skinny skinny jeans. That had to do for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On her way to the bathroom she dropped the laptop on the couch, and then put on some mascara as quickly as she could without poking her own eye out. She glanced at the clock. She had to pick up the speed! She had 2 minutes until class started, and she wasn’t sure it was enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then back to the living room, sitting down with the laptop in her lap. She used the school’s shortcut system, and logged into her teacher’s account. Her fingers were drumming a beat on the touchpad as she waited for it to log in. It was sooo slow! Cursing inside her head, she clapped on her thigh as if that act alone would make the laptop faster. Or was it the website that was slow and not the laptop?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She got inside the online classroom barely 2 second before the class began, and fixed her hair before turning on the webcam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning class,” she began, smiling at the camera.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was answered by a mumbling of something that sounded like ‘hellos’ and ‘good mornings’, or something like that. Some just made a noise as their hello. None of the kids in the class were particular early birds, but this class normally took place in the afternoon, so Emma could understand that they weren’t really that fresh and peppy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so the class went by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye class. Remember to turn in the assignment on friday!” she reminded them before closing the online classroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything on the laptop had the sound turned off, as she didn’t want to be interrupted by notifications from Discord. Some would argue that she could just turn off the app, but no. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now she could turn on the sound again, and she had honestly been looking forward to that. A lot actually, mostly because she wanted to talk to TP about something. Or she had thought about something for a while. Maybe it wasn’t the easiest thing to do for two people with anxiety, but she really wanted to try it, if TP was open to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she didn’t have anything to do before three o’clock, when she had yet another class, so why not?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She entered the app, and saw she had some messages from nobody else but TP.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Good morning dear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I guess you are teaching now, since you are not answering. I hope you are not too hard on the kids :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made Emma smile. She couldn’t help it. The grin went from ear to ear, and she began typing in an answer. She wrote quite fast as she always did, but as it was an answer for TP she typed like extra fast. Not by choice but because she was so excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yeah, I was just teaching, and hey? More concerned for my pupils than for me? What if they were hard on me? :pouting_cat:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some time went by before TP answered. But Emma knew she was online. The little spot on her profile picture was green.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard on you? Poor, poor pussycat, do you need some milk crybaby? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Wauw. SLAP. Thanks :O</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Don’t pout dear. It doesn’t suit you. Everything sounds harder in writing dear :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Slap lol :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again some time went by before someone decided to type in a message. Emma was fastest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: It was Regina, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Yes? :confused:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: It was just… I was afraid I had remembered the wrong name :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Really? My name is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> to remember?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t quick enough. Yet another message popped up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Em-ma…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You remember my name? :O</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Of course I do. I remember the name of everyone I chat with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: So I’m not the only one? I thought I was special?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You act like a child :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Am not!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Just for the record you are the only one I’m chatting with I am on first name basis with :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason it kinda gave her a warm feeling in her belly. More than it should anyways. She had come to really appreciate, no like, TP, but were there more to it? No that was silly. They were just friends. They hadn’t chatted for such a long time, and they had only chatted. They had never sent each other pictures or phone numbers or anything like that. And TP surely wasn’t interested in her like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You suddenly got so silent. Are you still here, Em-ma?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That kicked her into gear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yes!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I mean ehm… yes, I’m still here. No worries :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear I mean… Do you say that to all the girls you mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Whatever do you mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know exactly what I mean. She thought, but couldn’t help grinning like an idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You know… the part with the first name? That I’m the only one whose first name you know?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh, that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Yes?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I meant it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Really?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: It’s true. I rarely share my first name with my chat partners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special! :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Don’t get too smug :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She winked? She actually sent her a winking-emoji? Emma thought clearly dumbstruck as she was staring at the screen for several seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Em-ma, you disappeared again dear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Sorry! I was about to drop my coffee in my lap again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Again? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I haven’t told you that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Told me what? :confused:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: It’s kinda an annual thing in my home. I spill coffee on myself several times a day. Crazy that I haven’t told you that yet! :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You are truly a child, dear :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: But you like it! :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: That’s something you think, dear :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Naaah, I know you liiiike me! :stuck_out_tongue:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Just keep telling yourself that, Em-ma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even through text this made Emma shiver - when TP wrote her name like that. There was something about the way she wrote it. Curious…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I will do that then! Until I die I will insist on the fact that you love me! :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>FUCK! ALARM! YOUR GAY IS SHOWING! THIS ISN’T A DRILL! THIS IS </span>
  <em>
    <span>NOT </span>
  </em>
  <span>A DRILL!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: *like me. That’s what I meant :see_no_evil:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: :smirk: :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pewh! Ok. Breath. She breathed deeply and cursed in a whisper like TP could hear her: “Fuck! Hell! Damn!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Hey :smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: You have already said that. Not today though, but last time we talked. Are you trying to catch up or something? :rolling_eyes:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Oh sorry. I didn’t know you were a member of the chat-police :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: If I was I surely wouldn’t tell you about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Ooh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Unless you asked really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> nicely of course :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: And how </span>
  <em>
    <span>nicely</span>
  </em>
  <span> should I ask exactly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A meme appeared on her Facebook on the left side of the screen at the same time, and she couldn’t help but laugh. The picture said: ‘Is this… flirting?’. She rolled her eyes, reloaded the page and then turned to the Discord app again. And as always TP didn’t leave her disapointed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Oh, you have to ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> nicely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet another message popped up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Can you do that for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma repeatedly tried to swallow the lump in her throat. After failing twice she suceeded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Sure?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I will do anything for you, she thought, squinting and then shaking her head. Wait what? She shook herself out of the trance and facepalmed. Dammit Emma! Get a grip you hormonal teenager! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: I will remember that :smirk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Don’t hold it against me! :joy:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: But oh, I will, Em-ma. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> forget a promise :wink:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few quiet seconds between them didn’t feel awkward. Then Emma manned up and began writing the message that she had wanted to send TP all day. That was the why she had been so nervous, and also why she had opened Discord in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: You Regina?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TopazPorcelain: Huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I was thinking… that maybe… you wanted to meet up some time? I mean… doesn’t have to be soon or anything. Or now. I was just thinking...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma never got further with the message before she sent it. Suddenly there was a deadly silence in the chat. Or of course there was always silent, but it seemed like it was even more quiet than usual. As she got more and more nervous she put on some music, and tapped the rhythm on her thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was sitting like that for a while, looking at the screen as she waited for an answer from TP. But the three dots didn’t jump up and down, and neither was her name under the writing box. Shortly after the dot on her profile picture turned red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck! She cursed inwardly, punching into the cushion of the couch. Fuck, fuck, fuck!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FUCK!” she yelled through the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time she had truly stepped in it. It was clear as the day that TP didn’t want to meet her. Or at least it was now. And even if they both had anxiety TP’s reaction occurred strange to Emma. It was kind of an… overreaction? That was actually Emma’s first thought: That TP overreacted. Something about her reaction - logging off with no answer - felt a little over the top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as she was sitting there still she was trying to understand what had just happened, while looking at the screen. What did one do now? TP had never logged off without saying goodbye. And Emma had to - no matter what she was thinking about the reaction - apologize. Or at least try to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She began writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Hey TP. I feel like we hit this topic the wrong way. I don’t wanna dig myself deeper, but you should know that it’s not something we have to do. Like ever, just so you know :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: I hope you are ok, and that I didn’t provoke something. If you need to talk or something you know where to find me. Or you can just throw me a text on ***-***-**** or call if you want, even if I don’t like talking on the phone. Right now it’s about what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> need. Please text me and let me know you are ok! :slight_smile:</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Are you dead or what?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emma had been laying in bed all day, and her thoughts had really become bad in that time. She was thinking about, again and again, what she had done wrong with TP and could hardly be in her own body. Was it really so wrong to ask to meet? To want to meet up? Had they really known each other for too little time for stuff like that? What exactly went wrong, and where did it go wrong, for TP to not answer her at all. Since she couldn’t even give her a ‘no’?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone vibrated again. She lifted it up, looked at the text and threw it back on the far end of the bed. It was Ruby, but she wasn’t in the mood for talking to her. She wasn’t in the mood for anything right now to be honest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It said:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby: Blondie? What are you doing? Why don’t you answer me? I have texted you for days now, and you haven’t even answered once. Are you ok?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another text ticked in, and she read that too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby: Blondie? Hello? Where are you? Shall I come and get you? Are you hurt or something? Please just answer and tell me you are ok!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And another text announced its arrival when the phone vibrated again, even before she could put it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby: Blondie, I’m getting worried! I will call you, if you don’t answer soon!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma of course didn’t answer her. She didn’t want to. After the last text Ruby tried to call her three or four times in a row, before she completely stopped all contact with Emma. For a short period of time she kinda wanted to text her, but never got to it. Instead she just fell asleep just beside the phone. Soon after she was snoring loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she woke up it was because someone was knocking, hammering, on something, and that was what had woken her up. She frowned slightly, narrowing her eyes at the light and threw her arm over her eyes then. To hell with that idiot who had forgotten to draw the curtains. Dammit!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She muttered a row of curse words, before she pushed herself over the edge of the bed to get out of it. She landed on the floor with a loud ‘umpf!’, groaning and mumbling more curse words before she got on her feet. Because now she recognized the sound. Someone was slamming on a door. Probably her own front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still she got rather surprised when she opened the door and found an out-of-breath Ruby on the other side. She had red spots on her cheeks, and looked like she had run all the way up the stairs. But then again, Emma was living on the fourth floor, which made it quite a run. Her eyebrows jumped up to her forehead, as she looked at Ruby. But she didn’t get to say anything before her friend exploded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHAT THE FUCK! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD?!” Ruby yelled directly in her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I-I-” Emma stuttered, but before she could say more she was interrupted by Ruby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit, Blondie, say something! Explain yourself!” she growled, even if she talked more quietly than just before. Damn Emma hated it when people talked in caps locks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, ok?!” she spat in frustration, while her eyes were all wet, tears almost spilling out. The tone was annoyed as hell, because she was forced to answer and answer now!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know where you have been?” Ruby demanded to know, before she repeated, “I thought you were dea-hurt!“ She quickly corrected herself to seem less dramatic. More like a friend, and less like a mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Emma couldn’t do anything but just stand and smile a little. This was a side of Ruby she had never seen before. An almost motherly side. Even if it was a really cursing-like-a-sailor mom. It was weird seeing her like that, and that made laughter bubble from her stomach to her throat and out of her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why the fuck are you laughing?!” Ruby said in an angry tone, stomping her foot on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma just kept laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, now you are scaring me Blondie.” The tone now more worried than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, ok!” she hiccuped between bubbles of laughter. “Get inside, and I will explain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby mumbled something under her breath that Emma couldn’t understand, but followed her inside, kicking the door shut after her before walking into the living room at the heel of Emma herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were both inside her friend looked at her aloof for such a long time that she poked Emma in the ribs and insistently said: “Sooo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Emma still didn’t say anything it got to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spit it out Blondie!” But she had some laughter in her voice as if even she could hear the funny thing about the whole situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, ok,” she said slowly, but came to a halt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby rolled her eyes at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, I’m here. I’m getting there!” she stated and looked at her hands. How could she begin?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And like Ruby could hear her thoughts she said: “What about starting at the beginning? Why didn't you answer my texts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you see...” She scratched her neck, but was able to keep going, “You see, it all began with TP.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TP?” her friend said like she didn’t understand what Emma had just said, and put a lock of red hair behind her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will get there,” she explained without really explaining anything. “You see I have talked to her for a while, she’s a little older and-” And this was where Ruby interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much older?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pas… or I can’t quite figure it out… she is welll, maybe 5-6 years older or something like that? But that doesn’t matter. But I was talking to her and had done that for some time and I asked her-” she barked out a nervous laughter, before continuing, “-so I asked her, if she wanted to meet up, and she ghosted me. Or I can’t explain this better than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owow, ok! What the hell?” Ruby cracked with laughter now. She looked like someone who didn’t know what to say, and Emma was kinda mute about this too. This was not how she wanted this to get out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...” She smiled awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> meeting up with this TP?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so. I don’t even know if she will ever write to me again. If we are ever gonna...” She waved her hand as she couldn’t find the words, and her smile morphed into a shy one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, ok. But can’t you just write to her and hear what happened? You know… and unravel this mess? Isn’t that how you do that online?” she asked, seeking Emma’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma just shrugged as she said: “I actually don’t know. I have never tried being ghosted before. Not by someone I actually wanted to talk to at least.” She looked thoughtful for so long that Ruby began talking again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But just… text her? Message her? Go go!” She quickly located the laptop with her eyes, and pushed at Emma’s shoulder towards it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok.“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby pushed her yet again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, ok!” She walked towards the laptop stopping halfway and looked at her bare feet. She wriggled a little with them, and decided against messaging TP. Suddenly she didn’t want to. Or she didn’t want to in the first place, but for a few seconds she had been motivated by her friends enthusiasm and her drive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blondie! Get it together! It’s just a girl dammit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma was pushed yet again, but digging her heels into the floor. Violently she shook her head and her eyes got all teary from the mere thought of messaging TP.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on! Woman up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she just shook her head, as Ruby tried to catch her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let me!” she said annoyed as she walked to the laptop, opening it. She pushed on the on-button and looked expectantly at the screen that lit up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma was just standing a few feet from the laptop on the table without ability to move in any way. She was frozen in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What then Blondie?” she demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” she said, and thought: What do you need?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your password Blondie, your password!” she laughed making Emma hurry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course,” she answered and defrosted her feet so she was able to walk to her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly she was standing behind Ruby, reaching for the keyboard. Quickly she punched in her password as her friend held her hands in front of her eyes for dramatic effect. She already knew Emma’s password of course, but didn’t want to overstep. Or accidently end up on Emma’s late night porn site from the night before. When the password was there, and the laptop opened correctly she looked at Emma who was now standing beside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where am I going?” she asked, tilting her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Find it yourself,” she answered stiffly, because she suddenly didn’t want Ruby to see what she had written to TP earlier that week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t bloody know where you chat with your cougar!” she teased, but got a cold glare from Emma, “Ok, ok! Then do it yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… can’t,” she answered irritatedly, and tried to make her hands stop spasming with nervous energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you can!” she answered like it was clear as day, “Get into that chatroom and message her!” It was meant to sound encouraging, but didn’t really have that effect on Emma, sadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t know where to begin!” she snorted in frustration, and looked demonstratively away from the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Begin with ‘hey, it has been a while hasn’t it? Are you well?’,” Ruby quoted like it was easy as pie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” She looked skeptically at her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really. Go!” She waved at Emma, got up from the chair and pushed her into it. Then she should just begin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma just ended up sighing and opening the Discord app like Satan with his pitchfork was in her heels. If she did it quickly maybe it was easier! Like when you pulled off a bandage. Hurrying she wrote what Ruby had said - more or less - and hesitated with pressing send.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worriedbear3: Hey, long time no see? Are you well? :slight_smile:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Ruby was faster, and pressed it for her. Of all things she just wanted to delete the message again, but again Ruby was faster and stopped her before she did it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you close the chatroom and go to dye your hair. You can always get back to it later. She will surely have answered, just you wait and see!” With those words said her friend pulled her by her wrists to the bathroom. And what could Emma do but run along? Nothing really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ar-are you sure it’s a good idea?” Emma stuttered as she saw the package with hair dye, which had been sitting on the medicine cabinet for like forever. Actually it had been sitting there for such a long time that she could hardly remember buying it at all!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby nodded in an eager fashion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>colour?” She glared skeptical at the package, because the colour was more pink than she liked it to be. In her hair at least. It was almost kind of dark pink without truly being that. Like the colour of a girl’s teddy bear. No matter what the colour was too over the top in so many ways that she didn’t know where to begin, if she should describe them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! It’s so… funky!” Ruby cheered just as eagerly as before, and began opening the package.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? It’s a ghastly colour.” She wrinkled her nose at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And of that her friend just laughed: “That older woman of yours is rubbing off on you. What a language!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmpf,” was Emma’s answer as she let Ruby do whatever she wanted. That was how all their talks went, almost at least: With Ruby doing what she wanted. With her getting her way. Especially with stuff like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yay! Party!” She was already reading the manual as if she didn’t know anything about dying hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only the tips!” Emma added in a brave moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s say half an inch and we got a deal. Deal?” She held forward her pinky toward Emma’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal,” she sighed and did the pinky promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Ruby began dying her hair, just like that. She was no pro, but she dyed her hair time and time again and that looked ok right? So why shouldn’t she be able to dye Emma’s? Of course she could! And that was the mantra Emma repeated in her thoughts until Ruby was all done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had actually closed her eyes completely, to not see anything before it was done. She could feel the dye in her hair, and when it was washed out she looked very surprised as she got the first peak of the hair since Ruby began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?!” she gasped shocked, as she looked at the colour. Damn it looked like shit!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, I admit it! It got more pink than I expected. And slightly longer than the deal.” What should have been roughly half an inch was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> inches! Damn it looked sooo bad!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Lord help me now!” She hid her face in her hands, not even trying to touch the pink hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it does look funky!” Ruby laughed and patted her on the shoulder, “Cheer up, Soldier!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s so… pink!” She now had a hard time not laughing a little. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> funny. Almost! Just a little bit, but not more than that. Not more! She wouldn’t admit it because her hair basically looked like something that would only feel home on a candy floss stick. Everything about it reminded her of carnival. It was almost sickly to look at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Ruby yelled wildly and lifted her hand to receive the highest of fives. But when Emma’s hand never met hers she self fived with her other hand. If nobody did it you had to do it yourself, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn it’s Rubs!” she sighed and touched the hairs. They felt like they used to, it was only when you looked at it you discovered the truth. It was like transformed! Mysterious…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby lifted her upper lip in a sneer, but no sound came from her. None at all. But it was enough for Emma to understand that she still didn’t like the nickname. Not at all. But when it came to it Ruby had never liked it, it was just a slip of the tongue from Emma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s cool!” she laughed with her teeth bared, and ran her own fingers through the brunette hair with the red stripes. It looked kinda pale and diluted right now, but just a little re-dying would make it shine bright again!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you and I have completely different definitions of the word ‘cool’, Ruby,” Emma sighed and brushed her fingers through the hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was something she needed to send a picture of to TP. This was just hair after all. No faces or anything like that. It just seemed like something TP would like. When there were no faces in the pictures. And she just had to get used to that limit, whether she liked it or not. She really did like TP and wanted to get to know her though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was a thought for tomorrow.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, it's a new update! Even if I have spend most of the day on reading Mirandy fanfiction xD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>